This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story  Part 1
by Trixie21
Summary: Every man has a story. Some are just more interesting then others. Perhaps not as exciting as his grandson’s, Sugoroku Mutou has one too.
1. Part 1, Chapter 1: The Beginning

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subservantly before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

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**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**1. The Beginning…**

1928 Tokyo, Japan

Osamu Mutou hadn't expected this.

Hadn't wanted it really.

At least, not now.

But it had happened none-the-less.

His wife was pregnant.

The entire empire was still struggling to get back on its feet after the Great Kanto Earthquake only several years before, the first 'subway line' was opened between Asakusa and Ueno last year (not that he would ever use it), the government was currently preparing for its first general election for the House of Representatives of the Diet and now, of all things, Sayuri was pregnant.

It was almost too much for him.

Too much change, too much deviation.

He hated change.

It was a funny thing though.

He had never felt like this before when his wife was pregnant. Twice before it had happened, the first being born with severe malformations that ended its life only hours later and the second spared at least that by being still born. But this time…he had a feeling. This one would make it. Of that he was sure. What he wasn't sure about was how he should feel over it.

There was barely enough for anybody right now and with the sickness that followed the earthquake only now dissipating, it was still no easy life. They lived in little more than a wooden walled hole in a bad part of the city, he worked 12-14 hours a day at a laundry pressing hospital sheets and his wife kept the house, such as it was, and tended their meager garden during the spring and summer. This in his mind was not the time for a baby. To top it off, neither were exactly as healthy, or young, as one came and neither had family left to lean on.

Was it any wonder that he almost looked to this with some amount of dread? It would almost be a blessing if this baby didn't make it as well. But there was that feeling…

Osamu Mutou was a simple man of simple values. He did what he had to, did what his superiors told him and never questioned the validity of it. He was in all respects a good little Japanese subject. Lucky to even have a wife, his closely cropped black-brown hair did little to add anything to his immeasurably short stature of 4'9". He carried a heavy boned structure and with troubled dark brown eyes he truthfully, as a younger boy, never dared dream of attracting a fly let alone the delicate little thing he called his wife.

Walking along as a younger man he had been on his way to Tokyo to see what fortune had in store for him that warm spring day. As he passed the back side of a high walled yard he'd heard a frustrated sigh and curious as to the reason why such a sigh had been issued he found on opening in the fence and slipped in. Not less then twenty feet was the tiny Sayuri sitting on a bench with a game board before her. Wearing a pale blue dress stitched with the pattern of lilies upon it, her long black hair had been let loose being in privacy and with its framing effect made her unusually colored ivory skin seem as pale as the full moon on a cloudless night. She was not the most extraordinary woman he had ever been privileged to see but he found himself quite taken with her none the less. How bold he had been back then to dare approach her in her own yard and sit on the other side of the board! After rolling a six with the sugoroku die and then moving a black disk he looked at her, waiting for her move. Surprised for only a moment she had quickly recovered and with a soft smile took her turn. They played the game for well over an hour which, in the end, she had won and that had sealed it. When he had finally put foot in Tokyo he was no longer alone.

In truth to her name's meaning 'little lily', Sayuri was very nearly as delicate as a woman came both in build and in height. With long black hair habitually worn in a tight bun, she stood no more than 4'6" when straight and weighed no more than perhaps 70 lbs if that. Her feet had as a baby been wrapped in accordance with tradition but when it was obvious she would forever be extremely small the job was left unfinished as it was certain that even with her kind and soft spoken nature she could never find a man of any repute that would want her.

Well, she had found a husband and as he was the only person to ever show interest she was hustled off quickly so as to be no further burden or embarrassment to her family. She did not, however, let it detract from her carriage or demeanor in the least. She in fact held herself with pride and yet humility in her position. True they did not have much, but they at least had each other and she was more than happy with that. After being convinced that it was to be her lot in life to be alone, to have someone who wanted to have her was a joy. They had in their years found a certain love for one another and they stood by that resolutely and never once entertained the idea of there being more.

Life didn't give them leave to.

They had survived famines and bad times. They had survived disease and no jobs. They had even survived an earthquake that had brought destitution to all around them and the deaths of over 140,000 thousand people. They alone of both their families had continued to live. They were as happy as they could possible be for the moment and now were once again working to better their place in life as best they could, finally getting a grip on the good.

And now, thanks to the perverse sense of timing of the gods, she was pregnant.

Osamu could not ignore that there was a part of him, though perhaps a bit on the minuscule side, that was quite happy over the prospect of being able to father a child; one that would perhaps live this time. But still too fastened in his mind to forget was the idea that it was just not the right time for it.

What else could he do?

Nothing, save continue to work his long hours and eat his little portions of food.

And this he did. For the many long and agonizing months of waiting to see.

In the meantime they prepared.

He did additional odd jobs as he could find them. They saved every last possible yen they could earn or find. She hand made baby clothes from their older things and was even able to have some of the vegetables she grew herself jarred for later use. He had even managed to make their little home a little sturdier by bartering the sheets and bed clothes that were no longer up to the hospital standard, for food and then the food for lumber, concrete blocks and even sheets of steel and other metals. The home was enlarged with the addition of an eight by eight room and so by April of 1929 the little Mutou house had grown by one new room and one new life.

Sugoroku Mutou was born one afternoon while Osamu had been at work. It made for a rather disconcerting homecoming. To leave in the morning as always and come home to a son… In the morning his wife had been busy sweeping the front walk, in the afternoon she was feeding a baby. It all still seemed so mixed up to him. It was so…..different.

And so was their son. At least compared to the previous two he was. Named in honor of the board game she and Osamu had met over, Sugoroku had a mass of thick black hair right from the start, which always seemed to bush out at all angles giving him the most extraordinary look of messiness. His pale lavender eyes were wide as though always curious and unlike the first two he had been no delicate child like his mother. He was, even for his initially tiny size, made with a heavy bone that easily foretold his potential to be built more like his stocky father.

Additionally, their new son was a lusty, healthy thing that did not deem it unnecessary to bellow in earnestness when he thought he needed something. He did not whimper or coo softly as other babies did. He demanded to be noticed for whatever reason right then and there with no sense of shyness. Nighttime, on a regular basis, was a particularly difficult time for the Mutou family. Woe be to them all when their son woke with a chill, fever or in hunger. Everyone for a half mile knew it.

But as happens with babies they begin to grow and in his own time Sugoroku did as well, so that by the time Japan had taken over Manchuria he was no longer a mouthy little baby, but he had become an active and insistent little boy. While he now waited patiently for the food he knew would be coming he did not hold that patience over when he wanted to play and explore. Having been lovingly lavished upon by his mother with almost constant affection and attention he did not learn that others might not care to have him around. Consequently, when he wanted to join in games with other kids, he joined. When he wanted adventure, he went out and sought it. When he wanted to be daring and brave, well, he did those dangerous things all boys may try at one time another that makes fathers shout and mothers swoon in fear.

He was never above playing king of the hill on the many piles of regularly shifting rubble still not fully cleared. He never thought for a second from backing down on a challenge to cross a narrow beam twenty feet up between two buildings. He never gave a second thought to what danger really was. What young, energetic, adventurous boy does? Smaller though he may be, no one near questioned _his_ courage even if it did border on youthful ignorance.

Blissfully unaware of the wars that raged in Europe and in China and with no concern for the next several years, the adventurous and independent Sugoroku came of the age when all Japanese children began their first year of school and the boy soon found many new challenges to test him daily. The first was the challenge to be the best in his classes. He could not compete as easily in all the many physical feats but when it came to his academics he more than made up for it. He had a quick and keen mind and since his limited world made him desire to know all that he could conquer, he was predisposed to working tirelessly to any task given him. It was not an uncommon thing at all for him to be done his studies for the day before any other student and so often find himself for an hour or more alone in the school yard until his fellow classmates were done.

He might have fallen the wayward side, as happens to many students who move forward a little easier than others, from this inactive time and the increasingly easy work they gave the students if he had not at about 9 years of age discovered a new challenge with which to test himself.

He found a game.

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Yeah! Part 1, Chapter 1 done! It seems boring right now doesn't it? But it will pick up. You have to know the history first. After all, those who do not know history are doomed to repeat it, right? Anywho... You're probably wondering right now, "Why write about Grandpa?" My answer, "Why the Hell not!"

Seriously though, The idea of this came about one Sunday morning after I had been mentally going through some ideas for my as of yet unfinished adventure "The Book of Sprits". I'd been working on that for about two months now and as usually happens I diverged a bit and started thinking about how Takahashi gave background on some characters and not others. We know Jonouchi's and Kaiba's sob story and even Pegasus'. Other than having a sister and a nephew we know nothing more about Honda. We know a little about poor dear Ryou but almost nothing about Anzu other than she and Yugi had been friends from childhood. Mia's beginnings are as mysterious to us as Yugi's mother and other than 'he woke up and found the Millennium Puzzle next to him' we know no more about Yugi's grandfather. And this got me to thinking…

So who is Sugoroku Mutou really?

He is a heck of character. Weird, creepy, friendly, sometimes eccentric, oddly unserious at the strangest moments and yes, occasionally a little, well, perverted. Enigmatic and yet freely open to his opinions he presents a father figure role model that is obviously lacking to some degree in our favorite three guys and he has the ability to deal with just about anything any of the three come across with. Though he is open minded to the strange and unexplainable he also has, given his easy acceptance of the unusual, a most striking tendency toward realism on a consistent basis. I see him as a man with a unique sense of humor, possibly a jokester when younger and someone with an interesting story of his own to tell. It may never have been as exciting as Yugi's but I would imagine that for him it would have been no less life shaping.

There is the implied suggestion that he himself may once have been a great "gamer", that he and professor Hawkins have been friends for quite some time, he's known Professor Yoshimori for a while, may himself have possibly been an archaeologist or Egyptologist, got Yugi's grandmother interested in him by using a message puzzle and he owns a game shop which caters to the rare and unusual. And so it was that I started to consider how some of that came to be. I started an outline and worked in a few things and found that I could even add a little bit of foreshadowing from my "Book of Spirits" story.

As a side note, I re-read my Manga novels continuously to keep my feel for who this man is but particularly I look deeply at the chapters where Kaiba tried to trade for Soguroku's BEWD and where he and Soguroku have their Duel Monsters game and there is something going on between those two that itches at me. We know he isn't happy with the way Kaiba plays with nothing but knowledge and never his heart, but why does it bother him _so_ much? If he had himself been put into a similar situation like Kaiba, does he wonder if he would have thought of gaming the same way? Why does he accept that duel? Does he think he can convert him, that its not too late to help Kaiba see how important it is to play with one's heart? I don't think he accepted that duel strictly to 'prove him wrong'. Sugoroku has always seemed to me to be above such pettiness. So, why?

Honestly, no one but Takahashi can know for certain, but as it seems that no answer is anytime soon forthcoming I decided to give it my own try.

So there it is.

My idea of how our unique and less than mundane 'Grandpa' may have come about.

Enjoy or not enjoy, that is now my question.

At least YOU can answer that.

R&R please.

Trixie21


	2. Part 1, Chapter 2: The Game

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Mondo super thanks to **Kekewey** for the ONLY reveiw of Chapter 1 (thus far, hint hint) and the awesome site suggestion. What a fabulous site it is too! I did go to look at Sugoroku's pics as drawn in the manga (which to this point have not gotten to the US yet in the Manga Novel form, we're only on number 7!!!! Ack!) and I must say he was a rather rakish looking sort wasn't he? Sort of an Indiana Jones/James Bond/Atemu combo going on there. For those who have not seen those pics, I can happily assure you, he was very...arresting. Gave my story a whole new spin, he he! I had to redo my outline a little based on the appearance he presents but I definately think I'm going to like doing these changes and his story even more! And just to confirm, I did know that Sugoroku had found the puzzle (thanks to Edo's YGO page and his manga translations), which of course means that Sugoroku lied to Yugi (or is that just prevaricating the truth a little) in the beginning when he told Yugi it was found in the beginning of the century and starts chasing him around the shop for it. As IF he would really sell it! At least Sugoroku didn't fib on the part about people dieing when it was found.

Anyways, here is chapter 2 for your perusal AND reveiw (once again, hint hint...do I really need to do that again or should I just beg? lol.) I know they are short chapters here in Part 1, but it worked better for me this way. Kept the creatve juices flowing so to speak. But I should mention that I do plan on having some larger chapters in the future, particularly in Part 2 when Sugoroku goes to..........

What? Did you think I was really going to give you all a spoiler? You'll just have to stick with me to find out where he goes! Honestly, I think you intelligent readers will be able to tell that pretty well yourselves anyway. I'll take guesses!

And now with out further ado (and no more of my inane, 3am, Pepsi-rush drivel) I leave you to read...and review. Did I mention you could review? Oh, guess I did. He, he. Just kidding.

Enjoy!

Trixie21

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Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subservantly before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

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**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**2. The Game…**

The day it occurred was a dreadfully dreary rainy one in which Sugoroku had found himself stuck indoors after completing his assignments for the day early as usual. He languished mournfully in the back of the room in a corner and having exhausted the fun out of kicking his short legs back and forth and twiddling his thumbs he, unable to keep quiet any longer, had started to pester the nearby students still working.

The teacher, unable to take anymore, had been a man of some astuteness himself and saw that Sugoroku was in dire need of something to occupy the boy constructively, so without further ado he walked back to the table where Sugoroku sat, plunked down a box, handed him a sheet of characters and walked away.

Sugoroku blinked in surprise but at the same felt intrigued.

What could possible be in the box and what was he to do with it?

His curious mind having settling the matter quickly, he opened it and soon found the meaning of the word delight.

Within the box was a number of varied pentagonal pieces carved out of wood with varying characters upon each, and on the inside of the box was a pattern of squares set nine by nine. It was obviously a game of some kind but not knowing what, he began to read the sheet the teacher had left with him.

The game, Sugoroku quickly discovered, was called Shogi. A Japanese form of chess, it was a game of strategy which involved two players, each with an army of 20 pieces. In the beginning, each side had one king, one rook, one bishop, two lances, two knights, two silver generals, two gold generals, and nine pawns. Arranged in three specific rows he quickly found that the object of the game was to capture or 'checkmate' the opponents king to win the game. Movement, he found, varied between the pieces and if he were to capture a piece from his opponents army he could then make it a part of his own. Even better, he quickly discovered that when one of his pieces crossed the board and made it to his opponents beginning three lines or 'ranks', that piece could be promoted to the next higher piece and thus move differently as well.

Sugoroku was amazed! He had never seen such a complex and organized game before. He had played simple games of guess and chance with his friends and even some involving special numbered cubes and disks yes, but nothing quite compared to this.

The boy succumbed to its appeal and he spent the rest of that afternoon learning the names of the pieces, how to set the board, how to move each piece and was just beginning to try playing it a little himself when the teacher called time on the class and sent them home.

Sugoroku tried begging out to stay just a little longer.

"Please sir! Can I stay just a moment more? I was just beginning to play!"

"My apologies Mutou but I must end the day and send you home for dinner. I myself wish to get home quickly before the rain becomes any heavier."

Crushed that he could not continue right then he walked slowly home hardly noticing the rain. When he arrived home, his mother admonished him for coming in completely soaked.

"Sugoroku! Why are you so late getting home and soaked as well! We were waiting to start dinner. Quickly, change and hang your things to dry."

The boy did as he was told expecting no more but when he sat at the table his father looked at him and asked pointedly, "Why are you late Sugoroku?"

"I am sorry father. I wanted to stay at school to play Shoji but Sensei would not allow it so I walked home."

"That does not explain why you are late."

"I walked very slowly thinking of the game."

Osamu looked at Sugoroku for a moment.

"You risk your health for thinking of a game that you could just as easily be playing tomorrow?"

Sugoroku started slightly. He hadn't thought of that. He'd been so preoccupied with the thought of not playing the game at that moment that he hadn't even considered that he would be able to play later.

The boysmiled to himself as he said, "I am sorry. I will not take so long again."

His father looked at him almost warily, "Certainly not over a game", he concurred and turned silent to eat his dinner.

Sugoroku never heard his father.

He was too busy thinking of school tomorrow and the game he would be able to start playing.

Shoji quickly became Sugoroku's obsession. He could not get enough of it. He did very nearly whatever it took to get back to his game. If his class work was done quickly before, it was now done in nearly a flash. He skipped full lunches, rarely played during recess and quickly volunteered for any and all extra class time. In hardly a two months time he was good enough to play both sides and have a game that could last a week.

the teacher watched in amazement at the rapid progress the boy made and out of curiosity as well as his own competitive nature he finally thought him good enough to offer a free day to the students if Sugoroku could beat him. The match itself lasted two hours and Sugoroku had won.

The children of the class had a set up quite a cheer and for some months Shoji became the new interest of all the students. Sugoroku then had the new distinction of teaching his classmates how to play and before long there were many more than just 1 board in the class. No other student came close to Sugoroku when they played him so it wasn't long before the teacher had begun to allow the children to bring other games to school to test Sugoroku with. It happened often enough that someone would bring a new game in and until Sugoroku was comfortable with the rules and the object of the game those already familiar with it might actually beat him once or even twice. But from that point on the game was no longer usable with him as he could no longer be beaten at it.

It quickly became all to obvious that Sugoroku was not _just_ good at games.

He was a game prodigy. Even in games of chance he seemed to have an other worldly edge that allowed him to consistently see him the winner.

In the next several years the teachers were reduced to looking for the oldest and most ancient of games still in memory and present them to Sugoroku for trial. The players were by then most often the older folk who had imparted the knowledge of these games to the teachers and after that it was only rarely when a fellow student would attempt to challenge Sugoroku to a game they thought they had sufficient talent in to take him on.

It was exceedingly rare when they successfully beat him.

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Next Chapter: A Captain's Challenge


	3. Part 1, Chapter 3: A Captain's Challenge

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**Snow Weaver**...

...you are awesome! Thanks so much for reviewing again. You have no idea how much it means to me to see proof that people are reading this, especially considering the research I have to put into this to make many of the circumstances that will be happening shortly and further on, historically accurate! Good thing I'm enjoying writing it so much!

Since I know the rest of you want to see your name mentioned above too you'll have to review! LOL.

Anyways Chapter 3 is here!

Enjoy!

Trixie21

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Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subservantly before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

-

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

****

**3. A Captain's Challenge…**

Sugoroku was just twelve when the Pacific War began in 1941. In a bold move brought on by their secure sense of knowledge in the new Western machinery and style of warfare, the Japanese Navy had, after several years of watching the progress of Hitler in Europe and their own successful time in China, attacked Pearl Harbor and brought the United States to fight a two front war separated by well over 6,000 miles. The Japanese had been for more than five years steadily massing its materials and men and with millions ready to die at the command of their generals, they had begun their campaign to become masters of the Pacific.

For such a young boy there could be little he understood about such things except that everywhere there were men in military uniforms going through the streets, every scrap of metal was ear marked for the one of hundreds of manufacturing plants of the war and posters were plastered every where touting that the war was right and that their Emperor was destined to rule all.

Sugoroku could make no sense of it. It didn't seem reasonable that he should go to war with people he had not only never met but with cultures that created some of his very favorite games.

What he did know of it however was that food was slowly becoming more and more limited and his parents were continually discussing leaving the city for a time.

Leave? Why would they have to leave? He could tell that something frightened them but he could not figure out what. They lived in Japan, the greatest empire in the world. Even if they were at war why would they have to leave? Surely no one would come here. Who could reach them? Who would dare?

For most of that year he did his normal thing and went to school daily, played his games and with some of his more adventurous friends paid weekly visits to the newly opened Port of Tokyo to view the immense war ships that came and went daily. They even had some fun regularly making a few yen here and there with simple card games that were easy to convince the naval man to try at and only on occasion were run off by the rare disgruntled loser.

But as the war raged on there began to be changes.

One of the biggest was the now constant presence of military officers not only patrolling the streets but in the schools. All the children were now given instruction in historical propaganda that seemed to do little more than celebrate the war and all the boys, save Sugoroku himself, now had a new class to attend in which they were not only taught to fight hand to hand but were also taught how to care for, load and accurately fire several types of guns.

For a time it seemed that none of the military men had anything more than derisive interest in Sugoroku because of his size but that changed when he was caught playing his first love game, Shoji.

Sugoroku had always hated being singled out for his unworthiness of size and so when the other boys were taken aside for their extracurricular military studies the small boy was left to suffer the jeering looks of the men that watched the girls work on their home duty activities. Unable to put up with it Sugoroku finally gave in to his temptation and managed to slip away and back to the classroom to play a game.

Unknown to Sugoroku a young captain, Hanaka Takashi, had spotted his shadow disappearing around the side of the building and he followed the boy in. When he found Sugoroku seated at the table he immediately grabbed the boy by the scruff of his collar and literally yanked him out of his seat.

"What are you doing in here? Why are you not out sewing with the girls?"

"I, I came in to play Shoji, sir!" stammered Sugoroku nervously as he was shaken back and forth menacingly.

"Shoji," asked the captain unconvinced, "You play Shoji?"

"Y-yes sir."

Captain Hanaka dumped Sugoroku unceremoniously back into his seat before walking around to the other side of the table and sitting down. He immediately began to gather one set of pieces off the board as he spoke, "You will play Shoji with me then. Show me you know how. If you win I will let you go unpunished. Lose and you will regret disobeying the rules."

Sugoroku nodded with a nervous swallow as he collected his side together and prepared.

'If I lose,' he thought, 'I could be punished severely in front of the whole school. It would not be so bad but they might punish mother and father as well. I could not do that to my mother and father. It would be a disgrace. I will have to win, but he is a soldier. I have only ever played common people before. What if he is a master player?'

Sugoroku's nervousness was not an un-based thing. It was very common for the parents or family of one who was caught doing wrong to suffer as well. Sometimes there were stiff fines, sometimes a father received a demotion where he worked and in worst cases it could be extremely bad. Sometimes the offender would be taken and placed in military duty or in the case of a girl she might find herself in a government workhouse forever sewing uniforms or making blankets. It was even worse now since the country had gone to war and every little misconduct could be easily determined detrimental to the unifying theme of their culture.

For the first time in his life Sugoroku was a little afraid and more than a little nervous. But he had no choice. He had to play. And so the game began.

Captain Hanaka was an excellent player. Schooled through the military he had received a great deal of instruction in military maneuvers and strategy and his skill with Shoji was more than evident. His moves were quick and decisive and there was never once a look of struggled thought across his tanned features as he led the boy in the decidedly one sided game. Slowly the pieces of Sugoroku's army became the captain's and twice did the boy nearly lose by almost illegally dropping a taken pawn in the same square as another, but he had caught himself in time and he was more than a little elated at that fact. He had imagined all to easily that the captain would have been very happy to jump up and yell, "Ni Fu !" (You idiot. You just lost the game.) before dragging him out to punished.

As the minutes ticked away Sugoroku became more and more nervous and with each move he made his fear only increased causing him to sweat. The captain's army was closing in on his king and it was but perhaps another 20 moves even with good staling before the inevitable would happen. What could he do?

Suddenly the boy froze as a cold clammy wave of surprise crept over him.

Had he just seen what he thought he had or was his imagination willing him to see hope when there appeared otherwise none?

He looked carefully at the captain's layout and blinked in dumb shock. It _was_ there. A weakness. A _fatal_ weakness. He had left a good portion of his left flank open to converge upon Sugoroku's own king and opened himself up to a serious threat.

Had he done that deliberately? Did he even know?

Sugoroku closed his eyes and pictured the moves it would take to get to the captain's king. It was easy enough in itself, only perhaps another 10 moves if he kept it bare bones. But he wanted to be sure. He'd have to hide his true intentions by intermingling his real moves with irresistibly placed takes. But to do that he would have to take the chance that his opponent might checkmate first when he opened his king slightly.

Sugoroku swallowed.

'Its all I have left,' he thought, 'I have to chance it.'

So he did.

And after managing to stretch it to 29 moves it was over. When he placed his rook and surveyed the field he could not believe it.

"Checkmate," he said in hardly more than a whisper.

Captain Hanaka, who had already been moving to take a piece of his army to do the very same thing, sat stunned as he checked the board for a long moment. After that, he sat back and studied Sugoroku intently.

The boy shifted nervously under the gaze.

Suddenly the captain gave a smile as he leaned forward and slapped a large hand on Sugoroku's shoulder.

From all around him a cheer went up such as he had never heard. He looked about in confusion to find that he and the captain were surrounded by no less than 60 students and 20 military men as well as several teachers. When exactly they had come in he could not have told. His focus on the game had been so intense he never heard them.

How much of the game had they watched he wondered? Had they seen the entire thing? Had they noticed his fear? Did they know how difficult this had been? How weak he had felt?

Apparently not for as they left school that afternoon the kids from his class recounted the game over and over for themselves as well as the students in other classes who had not been witness. In their eyes he was a hero. But he certainly didn't feel like one. All he had wanted to do was be done with it and get out from under the fear of punishment. He half thought of telling them that when they asked how he had felt to play the captain, but he didn't. He kept that thought to himself and as he thanked those above for seeing him through it he made a promise to himself. He would try never to allow such humiliating fear of an opponent to fill him again.

The following day found change to Sugoroku's school life. The men who patrolled the school yards no longer glared at his size but they instead offered an unobtrusive nod of their heads. He no longer sat within the ranks of the girls sewing, he was now sequestered daily often times for hours at a go to learn the finer points of Shoji through Captain Hanaka.

For a full month he was taught and well learned that there were many patterns that one often saw that could be defended against once seen. He learned that there were sequences of events within the game that could win a game within minutes or change the outcome of a game all the way through to hundreds of moves later. It was this cause and effect,this chain of events,that the captain really wanted Sugoroku to learn. And there was reason for it.

At the end of that one month's time things would again change for Sugoroku.

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Next Chapter: The New Lesson


	4. Part 1, Chapter 4: The New Lesson

Wow!

**Snow Weaver **again with the happy review. I am soooooooo happy you're liking this as much as I am! Lots of hugs to you! Yes, I have to admit that when I was writing that last chapter I, like you, almost thought he might lose against Captain Hanaka as well! And I was writing it! LOL.

Anywho, chapter 4 is up so peruse and enjoy! Oh, and just in case anyone other than Snow Weaver is reading this, please consider reviewing. I would looooove to hear from you. : )

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**4. The New Lesson…**

When Sugoroku made it to his Shoji class with Captain Hanaka that last day he found the man in a distracted mood, staring out the window.

The boy, taught not to question his elders and most especially a military officer, slid into his seat quietly and waited. It was several minutes before the captain walked over and sat down to begin the game with Sugoroku but the boy could tell that his mind was not on the game at all. He made half hearted moves that seemed to mean nothing and at other times he let the boy make the move for him.

Sugoroku was worried. This was not the captain's style to so easily roll over a game. He was normally an almost ruthless player with intense drive toward the win and after waiting for almost five minutes for the captain to turn away from the windows to make his next move the boy could stand it no longer.

"Sir?" he asked cautiously.

The captain sighed but did not look at the boy.

"Mutou, this is your last year of grade school, yes?"

Sugoroku nodded.

"Yes, sir."

"Let me ask then, what are your plans?"

"After this year sir?"

"Yes. When this year ends what will you do?"

"I am not sure sir. My father wishes me to go to higher schools but we can not afford it. I may only go to his work and help earn money."

The captain nodded.

It was an all too common thing for the poorer families. Most of the children of this school would be done their basic mandatory education in only a few months and they would then become workers often in the same factories as their fathers. The girls would stay home and do more learning under the eyes of their mother and any other female members of the family until she was another few years older and asked for in marriage.

"Mutou, opportunities will come and go in your life. When they come, never be afraid to grasp hold of it and put everything you have into it. You must put nothing less than your very best towards it and never falter if the course you take is true."

The captain suddenly turned his head back to Sugoroku and stood leaning over the board. His eyes seemed lit with a fire that the boy could not remember ever seeing before and when the man spoke again his words were spoken with urgent insistence, almost demanding.

"When you find what it is you were called to do, do not just do it. _Live_ it. Do not just think it is your duty to do it, _believe_ it is your duty to do it. Do not just put your mind on the matter, put your _heart_ in it as well. There may come a day when lives will depend on your abilities and if you only put your mind to it and forget why, for who and the fact there are those risking themselves on your decisions then they will die and you will lose. There are those who think the mind is the most powerful friend a person can have, but I do not believe that at all. It is only in combination with one's heart that one can truly be great. There have been many emperors in our own empire possessed of the greatest of learning and knowledge and yet they had no compulsion against setting in motion ideas that would bring death to thousands. There were those that by the strength of their heart could not use their head competantly and so again brought the deaths of many. But when the two work together, when they are aligned, the most magnificent of accomplishments can occur and man is propelled forward to the highest levels of success. Mutou, you have the mind. I have no doubt about it, but you must use your heart as well. The mind can only lead one so far and then the rest is up to your heart. Live your life to the fullest, believe you can, and you will. Just like in the game. Believe you can win, trust yourself to win, trust your heart and you will. And so will those around you."

Sugoroku sat mutely staring at the captain. He was sure what the man was saying was something truly important but truthfully he wasn't really sure what. Everyone had always stressed to him to learn as much as he could, develop his skill. No one had ever mentioned his heart and believing in it.

"Mutou, today is our last day together. My regiment will be leaving tomorrow in the morning and I will never see you again. I will not have the honor of seeing what your ingenious mind comes up with in the coming years but promise me that you will remember what I have said."

Sugoroku nodded silently. This last bit of news was to surprising for words. He did not ever expect that the captain would be leaving. Strangely enough, he found he did not in anyway relish the idea. Captain Hanaka had presented him with a challenge no one else had ever been able to give him and even better he had taught him to be a better player than he had already been. He had been so blissfully caught up in someone who could actually beat him he never even stopped to consider once that it would ever end.

"Well, then," said the captain as he sat back down, "Let us have one more game. A great game. One like no other. Let us play from our hearts."

As Sugoroku and the captain reset the board his melancholy all at once lifted and there was an air of expectation that ran through him. It was then that he felt it. What this game would mean to the captain.

This was his last game. The man knew and somehow Sugoroku now knew. But more than that, he now understood.

The life of one cannot be more than the lives of the many and in his duty Captain Hanaka was called forward to put his life aside that his nation would go on. His mind was certain that he would not return and now at the end of his life he was passing on his last personal thoughts to another. It was his last personal duty before he left to perform the last of his social and military duty. And here at the end of it he was telling Sugoroku to seize the moment and live it for all its worth, to never doubt himself, to believe in a higher plane and strive for it. He wanted the boy to be a great person and someday a great man and had put it to words as best he could.

With no other way to say more he asked for the last thing he possible could do to show the boy his belief in him.

Sugoroku took a deep breath.

If it was a great game the captain wanted then it would be a great game the man would get. Sugoroku would show no quarter and give no advantage. He would show himself worthy of such notice by this one man and like his own father he would not rest until the day's work was done. It would be a game he would forever remember.

-

Sugoroku lay quietly on his bed that night looking up at the ceiling when his mother peeked in.

"Sugoroku," she called softly.

The boy looked at his mother.

"He is leaving?" she asked.

Sugoroku nodded.

The woman looked down at the floor before stepping in and taking a seat on the edge of his bed.

"You must not let your sadness overwhelm you. Even if he does not come back, you should be happy for him because he is finally following his path and ready to do the duty for which he lived and believed in."

"I do not think he truly believes in the war."

"Many do not believe it is the right choice."

"But then why does he go? Why should he not have a personal choice?"

"Because we are a nation Sugoroku. While we are many, we are still one. Like a puzzle. He may not believe in the war itself but he believes in the ideals that the military stands for. To uphold our traditions and our country's independence from all other nations. He believes that one must act for the greater good of all rather then for himself. Because of that he goes off to war at our emperor's command to prove his beliefs and loyalties are true."

"So I will never see him again because he believes that to follow his orders is right."

"For the country, yes. And perhaps for you too."

Sugoroku's eyes widened.

"He fights for me?"

"I think so, yes. He fights for his belief in you. He fights for your possibilities, your future, your life… I do not pretend to know what goes on in the mind of any man but I think you gave him something when you played Shoji with him."

"What?"

"Hope."

Sugoroku blinked in surprise.

"Well, its time for bed. You still have school tomorrow so try to sleep. Good night Sugoroku."

With that his mother left.

Sleep was a long time in coming to the boy that night. In his head he kept trying to understand how he could possible have given the captain hope. He was in the army. He was trained to fight and wage battle with men at his command who would die should he tell them to do so. Why would he need to find hope from a little boy?

Is that why he had played their last game like it was the most incredible thing he had ever done? Because he then felt hope that he did not have before? Perhaps that his true destiny was now already fulfilled?

Sugoroku ran through the game and now in reflection he marveled at what he had missed earlier. During that final match, the captain had smiled nearly the entire time. He had openly praised Sugoroku's most cunning moves and he had laughed when he had let himself slip and found himself trapped more than once. His eyes had sparkled like he was just now living for the first time and though he had always played like a devil before, this game he played with the deftness of a god. It been a marvel to watch him flick his eyes across the board and with a dramatic sweep of his hand make his move like it the very best one in the world.

In the end Sugoroku had lost, but not by much.

Yet, it did not feel like a loss. Instead there was the sense of victory, of achievement.

When the captain had tousled Sugoroku's already mussed up hair in a friendly way before turning and leaving, he had been smiling and for the moment Sugoroku had smiled too. There was no sadness in that last moment. Rather it felt like a beginning. A new adventure. As if something amazing was just on the horizon.

But now that it was over the thrill had left him and instead he felt the biting sting of regret. In the darkness of his room his solitary heart felt tears and silently he lamented his loss.

It was not the loss of the game that he mourned or even the loss of a man.

It was the loss of a friend.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Headmaster


	5. Part 1, Chapter 5: The Headmaster

I'm Baaaaaaaaaaackk! LOL.

**Snow Weaver** ..."that left me in tears...it was so sad" It left me feeling a little empty too! But you know what they say...into each life a little rain must fall. Unfortunately Sugoroku will be seeing more rain in the future. Take heart though, he will have some great times too! Wait till he meets his wife, he he he. Whoa boy! Talk about sparks! And not all perfectly good ones either. I had an inspiration for it and have been working a little ahead so you'll just have to patient. Very patient. Especially since it won't be happening for several arcs!

In the meantime, enjoy chapter 5, and as usual I look forward to your review...and any other reviews that may be forthcoming (crosses fingers, toes, arms, legs, eyes...)

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subservantly before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

****

**5. The Headmaster…**

Sugoroku had no time the following day to think much upon his sadness. He had little time for anything in fact. He had barely gotten up and dressed when there was a knock on the door. His mother answered and nearly fainted in momentary fright at the sight of two soldiers standing on the step.

"Good morning," Sugoroku heard her greet, "How may I be of assistance?"

A sharp face man answered in clipped brusque tones, "We are here to escort Sugoroku Mutou to school. Please have him outside in five minutes."

With that the men quickly walked back toa waiting jeep and stood in rigid attention by the open door well.

"Quickly," rushed Sugoroku's mother as she cut some bread off for the boy to chew, "they are waiting."

With a chunk of bread held to his mouth with one hand and a slipper in the other Sugoroku hopped out the door as he tried to put the shoe on at the same time but once outside he paused wide eyed.

Did they mean to drive him to school?

A shiver of elation ran up his back. He had never been privileged enough to ride in a vehicle before and now suddenly one was at his doorstep.

The soldier helped him in and with no other word the man jumped in and off the jeep went. They whizzed through the streets of the city quickly, Sugoroku reveling in the feel of the wind on his face until he saw the street his school was on slip by. He turned in his seat quickly and looked back in great surprise. Where were they going?

As if reading the boy's thoughts the sharp faced soldier said to him, "You will no longer be attending that school. You will have new place to learn."

A new place to learn? Did that mean a new school? Why did he need to go to a new school? Especially at this time. The end of year had not come yet. He had not had his ceremony of moving on. It was obvious then that he could not be going to an ordinary higher school.

The jeep took him further and further into Tokyo very nearly into its center and did not come to stop once until they had reached a gray brick building that reached nearly ten floors up. The soldiers led him out of the jeep and into the building and for another first Sugoroku was in a building higher than two floors. He followed the men into a large richly furnished room where he was suddenly left alone when the men turned and left, closing the door behind them.

Sugoroku was alone and feeling very much out of place. All around him stood bookcases fairly brimming with tomes of knowledge and large potted ferns and bamboo plants took up corners and filled the spaces under windows. The soft beige wallpaper was embossed with the outlines of flowering orchids and the massive carved desk before him was neatly arranged to reflect order and peace. The room, compared to his home, was truly an ornate piece of designing skill.

The boy took a hesitant step towards the nearest bookshelf and too nervous to get any closer than four feet he leaned forward and squinted to see the title of a massive book in black leather. The spine of the book revealed the title "In the Shadows of the Great: The History of Strategy".

A door behind the desk opened and Sugoroku turned to see a round faced spectacled man in a smartly pressed black suit stride in and hardly give him notice. At first glance he looked almost as though he might be the jovial sort with his young almost babyish face. But Sugoroku was to learn very quickly that appearances could be very deceiving.

"Sit," the man said tersely as he took his own leather seat behind the desk.

Sugoroku complied.

"Mutou, Sugoroku. Only son of Osamu and Sayuri. 12 years old. Correct?"

The boy nodded.

The man gave him a steely glare.

"You would do well to _answer_ when asked a question boy."

"Yes, sir."

The glare continued as the man's eyes cut in irritation.

"Did I ask you a question then?"

Sugoroku faltered nervously ,"No, sir. I mean, you did just now, but not the moment before."

The man grimaced distastefully.

"You had better learn quickly to listen thoroughly and respond carefully or I can assure you, you will not last long here. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, Now, again. Mutou, Sugoroku. Only son of Osamu and Sayuri. 12 years old. Correct?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. You will be issued two uniforms shortly. You are to wear a uniform everyday you come here, no exceptions. You are to present yourself to this school in a clean and tidy fashion everyday, no exceptions. You will arrive to school everyday on time, no exceptions. You will work with dedication and strive to exceed the expectations of your Emperor and your teachers, no exceptions. There is no fighting, stealing, lying, cheating, mischief making of any sort and all assignments will be completed and turned in on time. No exceptions. If you should fail to follow these simple rules you will be soundly and thoroughly punished before the entire school and your attendance here will be terminated immediately. Is that clear?"

"Yes sir."

"I will be watching you closely Mutou. If you set so much as one toe across the line I will be there to quickly and most happily put you back out on the street."

Sugoroku stared at the man in astonishment.

"Do you think I am being unfair Mutou? Should the rules not apply to you?"

"No sir. They should."

"Then why do you disrespect me by staring?"

The nervous boy looked down quickly.

"I'm sorry sir. I was just surprised."

"By what?"

"Because you don't like me."

"Get used to it boy. There are many who will not like you. Personally I do not think you should even be here. Intelligence runs in families of good breeding of which you are not. Military strategists are not born in the back water gutters. I believe you to be a fraud and I tell you now, I will find out soon enough and when I prove your presence here is a mistake you will be _lucky_ to find yourself walking home to your hovel."

Fear began to tingle through Sugoroku at the man's words and inflection, but he pushed it back. It was all to clear that this man held him in very little regard and found him to be distasteful company. It obviously had to do with where he was from and his lack of money and he would be after him because of it. Sugoroku would have to be careful around this man. In that he saw no question.

"Get this boy out of here and in a uniform" he heard the man say aloud.

"Yes Headmaster Mouishi," replied a young, strict looking woman who seemed to have appeared at the main door as if by magic.

"Now get out of my office Mutou and while I would like to say that I hope your absence from this room is a long time running, I expect it to be a short lived thing."

The boy wilted as he was led away by the woman.

To be hated because he was poor…

He sighed.

Suddenly, being out of favor because he was small wasn't such a big deal anymore.

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Next Chapter: For Better and Worse

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	6. Part 1, Chapter 6: For Better and Worse

Hello Friends! I have returned!

**Updates...** Grrrrr! I am so mad! has been weird lately. I log into my account and want to make some updates to my info and it won't let me! It keeps telling me ..."The pen name you have selected, Trixie, has been taken. Please make another selection." HELLO! I know I'm not Trixie! I'm **_Trixie21_**! So why can't I make my changes? To make it worse, it won't upload asterisks at all (which I happen to love using), multiple periods (except in sentence form) and it won't let you break a scene or section with more than one hyphen! Its enough to make a person crazy! Yes, I log in correctly and my page.Yes, I'm using one of the reccomended applications for uploading (IE). huff Okay, I feel a smidge better now that I have THAT out of my system...a little. Moving right along...

**Snow Weaver** ... I know. People can be soooo mean, can't they. And yes, I'm typing as fast as my inept fingers can possible type without making too many mistakes.

**Tamara Raymond** ... Welcome Tamara and thank you again so much for the great review and calling yourself a fan. I truly feel loved (sniff) and appreciated. (I'd like to thank all the little people for making this possible...) I'll be double and triple checking the spelling of my innocent typos so hopefully you'll be less of them in the future.

Anyway, please enjoy my humbly offered chapter 6, and as usual I look forward to reviews...lots of reviews...TONS OF REVIEWS!

LOL.

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subservantly before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**6. For Better and Worse…**

Captain Hanaka had pulled the strings of rank and with a few owed favors successfully had Sugoroku transferred out of his old grade school and placed into a special military school for particularly gifted boys and young men. Its role was two fold. First and foremost, it trained these boys to prepare for a life of military leadership through the use of superior intellect. Secondly, it doubled as a sort of think tank, encouraging the young minds to come up with new and fresh ways to engage in battle and win. This is where Sugoroku came in.

His clear, sharp, analytical and questioning young mind was perfectly suited to the task. The captain had seen this through the boy's game play and bored school life.

The positive to Sugoroku's attendance in this new school was also multiple. Here he was challenged daily in his school work and he, for the first time, was not always done before the others. His mind was encouraged to stretch to the limits of imagination in all that he did. He was given the chance to not only receive constructive criticism from his peers, but to offer his opinions and suggestions to their projects and tests as well. He learned more about tactical maneuvers, advantages and solutions then he could ever have known existed and through the use of maps and humongous battle boards he daily laid siege to his fellow student's armies and navies.

These 'battles' were monitored closely on a daily basis by a group of men who never spoke to the boys involved but instead scribbled madly in their notebooks the entire course of these projects.

In his mind, Sugoroku likened the battle boards to a giant game of Shoji, and even though there were fewer rules in regard to honorable combat in this venue, he imposed his own on himself.

As a matter of one instance… At the beginning of each new game, when he was given his starting set up positions, he insisted on knowing down to a man precisely how many people were in each group. In the basic stages, the land battalions rarely changed , though after a carry over of a game to the next day there were often fewer and fewer men. The sea battles were far worse though. Those he detested.

In the sea skirmishes, when a ship was destroyed, hundreds of men were lost and even though these were only mock simulations, this rankled against Sugoroku's personal nature. He took more care and time when plotting his routes through the sea and when asked why he explained that, "The men are in far more peril on the sea than land and since it was so their reactions may vary more."

"This," he further stated, "could affect the way the men took their orders, and dissent was a possibility when there was no clear and obvious safety line."

His teachers would carefully argue back, "But if it is the will of their commander to put themselves to death for their emperor, why should they question that?"

Sugoroku's answer?

"Because man is man. Man questions his world and all around him. By questioning it we learn to live longer and better. If we didn't question things, nothing would ever change and we would be no better than an animal."  
"But what of solidarity? The men train and live with one another and they are a family to themselves, to you and to the country. Why should they not believe that everyone will do what they are ordered?"

"We may be one country but it only takes one man's thought to bring change. Did a group of men decide to 'invent' the first train? No. It was one man who questioned the use of horses forever as the main source of transportation. Once he thought up the idea others helped and worked as one, but I am sure they all had opinions and different ideas. Just like all of the students here. The way I decide to run my navy may be different than someone else. Though we run our navy for the same purpose, we are still individuals no matter what else happens. Besides, if I so easily dismiss the men to death, I am left with fewer to command within my navy."

From their corners of the table the recording men scribbled and whispered excitably over what the boy had said.

Sugoroku did not know that his words and ideas ran the edge of acceptable social morality within the empire. His independent nature had predisposed him to take human nature into account even if he did not understand it as such. But that independence set him apart and to be apart from the whole was a dangerous thing in their society.

They were a unit. A family. They were one and thus, supposed to work and live and die as one. His ideas presented his teachers with some unusual insight as to the freer mind and so instead of punishing or suppressing it, they allowed him his uniqueness.

They allowed it because it brought a new dimension to the tables.

Though his fellow students were all older then him by several years, they looked at Sugoroku in interest after that. They themselves, for the most part, held nothing against him either for his short stature or lack of wealth. As it was obvious he had it where it counted to be here at this school, they accepted him. He was indeed a challenge since the rest of them all thought as any well taught Japanese subject should, that solidarity was the key to all. For both sides it seemed the ideal set up. Sugoroku's thoughts challenged the other boys to fight his independence. Their strict view of existence as a group challenged Sugoroku to find ways around it.

The one downside to his position in the school however, was the continual scrutiny and discrimination by the headmaster. The man took no rest from it and daily made sure to remind Sugoroku he was a poor boy with no honored family name. He detested the boy completely and as Sugoroku's tenure persisted he began to loath the boy as well.

In his mind, Sugoroku's ideas were dangerous and should not be fostered, but rather be thrown back into the gutter where they belonged. It was people like the boy that he felt sure were driving the nation to ruin and he would have preferred to stamp out the rabble quickly rather than let it grow to maturity when it could become a true threat.

Since he could not eject the boy with out reason, because of the boy's military backing, he instead made Sugoroku's life as difficult as possible. He delighted in conjuring reasons for the boy to be kept after school for detentions and cleaning duties just about every day. It was, in fact, so common for the boy to come home after dark that his mother had adjusted her own cooking schedule to allow hot food ready for her husband when he came home from work and a separate time of hot food available for Sugoroku when he stumbled in the door, exhausted from school.

Somehow, Sugoroku held on and instead of focusing on the headmaster's persecution of him, he concentrated that much more on his studies.

Rarely did anything disturb him from his thoughts of school, but in early 1943 he made a most dramatic realization.

He had been on his way home from school quite late when he heard them. What began as an indistinct droning noise in the distance, grew in tone and depth, and it wasn't long before he was aware of what he was hearing. They were planes. Planes heading towards him.

Now, Sugoroku had seen planes before. There were bulky cargo planes that occasionally made their way across Tokyo to the airport at Haneda or the distant military landing strips. And, he had seen a few of their own Japanese fighters pass by on their way to carriers or bases. But their appearance was an occasional occurrence that happened rarely enough so as to cause most boys his age to stop and look up. This was exactly what he did.

To his astonishment, the planes he saw were not cargo planes or Japanese fighters. What he saw had little resemblance to either. They were someone else's planes. _American_ planes. For a second he wondered why they were here.

Their silvery bodies sailed above him and then past and all at once he knew where they heading. Downtown Tokyo. The heart of their largest city. In only minutes time he heard the sound of several great booms and in the distance, in the direction of where the planes had been moving, pillars of smoke began rising as loud whistles were sounded from the center of the city.

The war, he realized, had come to Japan. But there was more. Much more. He had once thought that the battle games they had held in their school were merely mock simulations of things that _could_ happen. In his mind they had been hypothetical possibilities. But in a moment it was clear they had in fact not been exercises in what _could_ happen, but were exercises in what _had_ happened and were perhaps even now going on.

Things were suddenly understood as he remembered the last year and a half of exercises.

It had begun for him with the battle games involving the possible ways of taking the Philippine Islands very nearly from the day he had walked in the classes for the first time. That had continued until May, when the emphasis was then moved to how to go though all the islands, methodically taking them all in turn. Next they had studied and tackled Malay. This was followed by Borneo and then New Guinea. They had most recently, been working on the taking of Australia and the smaller island chains between. This was only sporadically broken with the study of the occasional American attacks on their convoy lines; the worst having only been but a few weeks ago when a fellow student, commanding that battle's supply run, had lost all 22 ships in the Bismarck Sea.

He had been made to understand that the Americans were friendly with the many islands near Japan and had even had forces in the Philippians with more in Australia. So, it was no wonder when they had occasionally had game skirmishes with the American Navy, these which had been slowly coming closer and closer to Japan in the simulations. But never once had he ever considered that it was really happening! He had known that Japan was at war, certainly, but it had all seemed so…far away. Almost unreal.

It very nearly traumatized the boy to find how effectively his naïveté had kept him from seeing that these were things that had really happened! He could hardly believe the truth, even now that it faced him, that he was a part of a group that was being used to analyze the apparent outcomes and possibilities. He and his classmates had been devising strategies that could have possibly been used to carry on or even prevent the happenings. What if some of their suggestions had been used in real life? What if some of his own had?

If these maneuvers had really happened, then people had really died!

The thought sickened Sugoroku. The only thing that kept him from showing it in an any more real physical way was the memory that he had always plotted most of his campaigns to take the fewest of his own armies lives. But what of his enemies?

He did not even want to know.

Sugoroku went home that night and with head buried beneath his pillow and bundled sheets, he cried.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Things That Could Not Be Done…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	7. Part 1, Chapter 7: The Things That Could...

**Updates...** ...peeks head in... Hello? Anybody in here? Well, here I am again. Your friendly neighborhood authoress. I almost didn't bother making an appearance this time around. I'm so ashamed. Why you ask? Because this week's offering is, in my opinion anyway, a little less than stellar. Its terribly short, and flat out blah, but I was having a hard time when I wrote this section. Don't worry though...I know the next chapter will make up for it. At least, I think the next chapter will make up for it. That is, I hope the next chapter will make up for it... Oh gosh! I'm so pathetic sometimes! At least the site is letting me make changes to my profile again. Whoo Hoo!

**Snow Weaver** ... I hate to tell you, but yes. You guessed it right. There will be a little more sadness in Sugoroku's life before it gets better. Fortunately, you have but a mere two or three chapters to wait before it starts taking that swing upward to more happier moments. As a personal note, I keep a box of tissues by my computer at all times. Just in case.

**Tamara Raymond** ... I feel like I'm in honors English again! WOW! That is not an entirely bad thing though. I loved honors English LOL! Thank you again for the comma help and keep it coming. I've copied the suggested changes and will be going back in the near future to reanalyze the sentence structure with your suggestions. As for the reveiw itself...It amazes me how you can write a review that sounds better than the story itself! Somehow you've even managed to put into very clear words exactly what I was going for. Sugoroku is most definately NOT like everyone else and thank heavens he isn't. If he was, where would dear adorable little Yugi and all _his_ incredible adventures be? LOL. Sugoroku has a lot more growth and learning to go through though and is still very far from being a complete person. After all, we are not the sum of one happening in our life...we are the sum of all the happenings in our life. Hmmm. Sounds like a line I'll have to remember to add a little later. Anyway, if you like, you can send suggested corrections directly to my e-mail.

**BabyGatomon** ... This is so cool. The Sugoroku following grows larger and larger! Welcome aboard BabyGatomon and thanks for the review. Have no fears...there is much more to come!

Well, I hope you stick around long enough to read this horribly short thing I've created. Reviews always loved, though in this chapter's case I could make an exception...

Lol.

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**7. The Things That Could Not Be Done…**

Sugoroku continued his schooling despite the guilt that wracked him daily. He continued going despite that fact the American forces were regularly bombing other areas of the country. He even went despite the fact that he no longer cared to battle his classmates.

He had no choice.

They gave him none.

The jeep appeared everyday outside his front door and everyday he climbed in. Everyday he listened with dull ears to the talk of the students around him as they devised their own strategies to deal with the 'invading Americans'. Everyday he was forced to set his pieces up and send them to die whether win or lose. And everyday he hated it more and more. The only upside was that after the first attack on Tokyo there had been no more for a while. But Sugoroku saw why.

They had stopped because they were slowing making their way to the outer islands. It was a feint move in two fold. They no longer came after Tokyo, one; because it was a great distance from where the carriers and nearest land masses sat, which made constant attacks by air difficult to arrange and execute without losing too many valuable men and aircraft. And two; because of the initial attacks, the Japanese navy had been drawn back closer to their main city to defend it from further attacks. But that was what the Americans wanted. They wanted their army to draw back, leaving the outer islands a great deal less defended. This done, the Americans would take those islands and set up land-based operations, making it wholly possible for the attacks on the heart of the country much easier.

He wondered if anyone saw it as clearly as he did. Possibly not. No one else had as yet stopped treating their battles as games. He had. After several weeks he finally had the chance to present his thought before the class in battle but he found himself laughed at.

"How could the enemy take those islands? They are ours. We have too many soldiers guarding them. They could never do anything meaningful from there. What a foolish idea."

Sugoroku tried arguing with them. He even tried showing them on the battle boards by decisively beating the other students as he played the American's forces and they their own country. But it was to no avail. They had labeled it a foolish thing and stubbornly refused to see otherwise.

By late 1943, however, it was no longer a foolish idea.

In a surge forward of compete skill and tenaciousness, the advancing American Armies and Marines proved that though they had not the great and almost inexhaustible numbers the Japanese had, they had abilities that went far beyond simple 'shot and die' tactics. Not only had the Americans managed to kill the great Admiral Yamamoto flying near Bougainvillea in the Solomon Islands, but they had also taken Saipan, and in a matter of months had a huge airfield build. That's when things really began.

The teachers were becoming more on edge as each day passed. While the observers watched tensely, the teachers yelled at and berated the boys for their 'poor attempts' and, on more than one occasion, a battle was stopped when a teacher lost his temper and scattered the pieces of the armies in anger. Nothing seemed to hold back the Americans. No matter what the frustrated boys tried nothing repelled them. Even worse was that as it became more and more Sugoroku who played the American part, the teachers began to direct more and more of their anger at him directly.

By 1944, the Americans were placed, firmly entrenched in Japan, and ready to begin the worst of their attacks. And begin them they did. Early that year, the bombers began their regular nighttime attacks, often coming in droves. There did appear to be a method to their attacks as they seemed to be targeting the manufacturing sections. But many of these places were indistinguishable from housing areas and it was not uncommon for homes to be destroyed as well.

While in school, Sugoroku shivered whenever a siren sounded either in earnest truth or false alarm. The other students jumped when one sounded and everywhere people hid in holes under their homes at the least little suggestion of a plane or something unusual.

As the attacks grew more frequent, the regular higher schools closed and all the boys and many girls were sent to the manufacturing companies, joining the adults to build airplane parts. But all too soon there came a terrible switch, and the older boys were sent to the front lines while more and more women filled their manufacturing positions. The younger children, after being ripped from the arms of the parents still capable of working in the factories, were evacuated from the city all together by the truck load. Their screaming and crying could be heard in all directions for many blocks.

From that point, the attacks began to occur very nearly every night. Sugoroku was often wakened by the sound of the sirens and the booms and when he chanced a look outside he usually found the night skies over the center of the city ablaze as if lighted by some huge display of fireworks.

With the threat of death now so obvious, he and his parents sat every morning in dread of the jeep that would come for him. As long as his school stood, he had to go. His mother had on one morning asked Osamu why they did not run with Sugoroku and leave the city.

"Because," had been his answer, "they would come, find him missing and search for him. We would all be labeled traitorous and perhaps even shot for it. It would be better to die from battle than a bullet from our own nation."

That was the end of it. The suggestion was never voiced again. A husband's word was law.

Even if they had tried to make him run, Sugoroku would have refused. He would not have allowed his parents to put themselves in danger from anyone, let alone their own countrymen. He might have considered leaving by himself, but there was no way to be sure his parents would not be held responsible. The headmaster, he was sure, would be very happy to report his absence and would more than likely attend any punishment of his parents by being in the front row.

What better way, and how easily done, to finally and truly demoralize the boy than having his parents punished in his place?

Indeed Headmaster Mouishi had, in Sugoroku's years in the school, given the boy every reason to believe that the man would be the one to suggest any such punishment. The headmaster had done nearly everything in his power to torture Sugoroku in every way but physically, and if he had been able to swing that as well he would have. Sugoroku had been denied privileges given the other boys, such as free days, special treats, and trips to the nearby base outside the city limits, and it seemed to Sugoroku, that even outside the school, the headmaster's reach was quite far. On the few festival days still held in the city Sugoroku always found himself on the edge of the festivities. A large group of boys, who seemed always at Headmaster Mouishi's side, would not allow Sugoroku's participation in any games and the few girls who did seem to give him a second look were usually very quickly whisked away before he could move a step towards them.

Beyond those times, the headmaster had quite left the boy with time for little more than school, eating and sleeping, and so Sugoroku languished miserably that year.

Every day was one full of hidden worry. Every second, every minute, every hour of every day, his nerves were taught as drum heads. He could no longer pretend innocence and though he tried to pay some attention to his other studies, his thoughts of guilt continued to pepper his moods and outlook. They racked through him continuously, pulling in every direction all at once. And there was nothing he could do about it.

These were his days through the year of 1944.

But, if the days had been bad, the nights had been even worse.

Every night, he lay for hours, too scared to fall asleep...

Left to think unwaveringly about his guilt, fear, anger and helplessness; he on many mornings rose from his bed, eyes ringed with a redness that comes only from sleepless nights and a head fogged from a lack of true rest.

In the rare chance he did find sleep, nightmares plagued him repeatedly, driving him up and out and back into consciousness or sometimes only into a semi state of it wherein his thoughts betrayed him into believing some of the things he had dreamed had actually come to pass.

When he did finally wake from the nightmares or the half-asleep horrors, he was often too nervous to open his eyes for fear that half his world, if not all of it, would be gone and he alone would remain, left to wander the empty streets; the demons of the dead forever haunting within him.

He could convince no one of the inevitable.

He could not protect his parents when it came.

He could not for a moment grab a bit of peace from anywhere around himself.

This was his life. And fully admitting his weakness, he knew without a doubt, that there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Rain of Fire…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	8. Part 1, Chapter 8: The Rain of Fire

**Updates** ... And the Sugoroku following just keeps on growing! You have no idea how exciting it is to click on those review alert e-mails! I love seeing regular reviewers, but its just awesome seeing new ones too! You all really make the story!

**PyroDragon2006** ... Welcome aboard the Sugoroku train! Better late than never I always say! I'm just happy you reviewed: ) I am very big into research, historically accurate data and my research on WWII, plus basic Japanese life during that time, is a good week and a half and 10 megabits of saved info on my computer. My file on 'games of the world' is fast approaching that size as well! And you're right. Sugoroku's life may not have evolved completely around the supernatural, but his is an amazing and unique adventure as well. After all, his life helped shape Yugi's to some degree. Many of the very concepts that Yugi fights with and for were taught to him by his 'Grandpa'. And thank you for the review on 'Amazin'' as well. I do actually have a bunch of things that I started writing before I found the Manga which of course means that yes, Jonouchi (or Jounouchi as a real purist might spell it) is indeed Joey. And I never thought of doing something like that with the Yamis...intriguing idea I must admit. BUT I MUST FINISH SUGOROKU'S STORY FIRST! Lol. And no worries about bad spelling. Even I miss a few before I post too!

**Scarab Dynasty** ... I'm so tickled you're enjoying my story! I agree that it can be hard to find stories based on strictly 'minor' characters of the show. But as you said, they can be just as important as the main. Being in America myself, I first heard Grandpa's name as Solomon too. But I have this tendency to go back to Manga once I find it. Its just me. I wouldn't call myself a purist or anything (where would the fun be in that?) but I like to give credit back to the original authors by sticking with their originals. I think it helps me write a little more in character. You're quite right in that the bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki would historically be fast approaching and I'm quite pleased that you picked that up with my break on chapter 7. However, these events are made such a big deal of, I decided to go elsewhere. I'm not skirting the issue or events. I just think that everyone knows quite a bit about those terrible events. I have Sugoroku elsewhere. Which you will shortly see.

**Snow Weaver** ... Ah yes, fate can fickle. As can luck. And when your life seems to be a combination of the two...look out! Keep those tissues handy. Especially if your imagination is as good as mine. Honestly, when I wrote chapters 8 and 9, it took over a week for both because it was so easy for me to picture. I had to take breaks because I was getting upset over it! I haven't been that upset since my English term paper on the German death camps at Auswitch.

And now that that's all done... read on!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**8. The Rain of Fire…**

March. 9, 1945

Sugoroku was just over a month shy of his 16th birthday that day and from the very start of it, the boy knew it would be no ordinary day. Just how he knew he could not say, but the tingling along his spine was something hardly ignorable.

The day had begun with an air heavy with pregnant expectation. The early morning skies above were at first beautifully painted in colors of red gold hues, but in swift minutes the clouds pushed in, and the canopy shifted to a dull gray. While the clouds above were nothing unusual for that time of year, the way they seemed to press down on the city was. It appeared to Sugoroku that they were almost smothering the area under a weighty hand that brought the sense of an oppressive dread to the entire region.

In the last year, the Americans had been slowly and surely working their way through all the islands that Japan had conquered. At the same time, the British and Indian forces now occupied Akyab in Burma and were slowly working their way through India with smaller units laboring in China.

The American Naval forces were getting closer and closer, and it would not be long before they were in striking distance of the Japanese homeland, leaving the island nation at risk for direct attack from the sea. Nothing held the Americans back. Not even the most desperate attempts made by the Japanese pilots who, with nothing left, gave their lives by crashing their planes into the war ships they fought against.

Japan's defeat would come.

It was only a matter of time.

Sugoroku sat in school that day only half-paying attention to the lessons as he instead surveyed the faces of his teachers and his fellow students. There was a grim set to them and their eyes were filled with worry. They finally knew as well as he did that something was not right. Something was coming. But what? And when?

By the end of the day, his nerves were a tangled jumble of constant edginess and he found, as he walked in the hard, fast wind that had built throughout the dry day, a definite urge to get home as quickly as possible. It was an urge that he happily obliged; an instinctive feeling that drove him to pick up his pace, and when he nearly crashed through his front door, his parents looking at him in quite some surprise, he could not help but feel like he had just barely escaped the fangs of some great beast that had tailed him.

Unfortunately, if he had been in any way hoping that making it home would bring peace to him, he was wrong. The nameless fear continued to grow throughout the rest of the evening and when he went to bed a little later, he knew that it would be another sleepless night.

It was just shortly after midnight that he heard them. The unmistakable droning of the planes had returned and with them, the bombs that would once again fall. What he did not know was that along with the bombs, there would come a horror that no one in the city had ever dreamed possible.

As soon as the bombs began to fall, Sugoroku knew immediately that these were not all the ordinary firebombs designed to just destroy with explosive power as had been used in all the other raids. These were different.

The boy looked out his window, peered at the skyline, and watched as the night sky began to glow with a steadily growing brilliance. The planes continued to fly overhead and for what would later seem like hours, these strange new incendiary bombs rained down on the center of Tokyo. As he wondered at the number of planes that crossed the night and the continuous sounds of bombs hitting, the winds began to pick up and suddenly a gust blew into Sugoroku's face, causing him to stumble back with a cry as he covered his eyes with his hands and rubbed.

The hot wind had carried with it the first loose flecks of ash from a burning city.

Sugoroku was immensely surprised. He had never seen this before with the other attacks. The most he had ever been exposed to was the glow of distant fires. This ash and biting, heated wind were very new and very wrong.

Sugoroku's father burst in just then as the boy was getting back up to his feet.

"Come! There are fires on the houses! We must put them out!"

Sugoroku followed his father out of the room as he exclaimed in confusion, "But that is in the heart of the city!"

"No! It is here! Our neighbors homes are burning!"

Sugoroku stepped out of his home and looked about in awe.

Several of his neighbors homes were indeed on fire, having caught on by the still-hot ash that had been blown from the city center. A bucket was pushed into his hands and after filling it from a rain barrel, he joined the efforts of his neighbors trying to keep a home made mostly of wood from catching to full flame.

In short time however, it was clear it would be a losing battle and Sugoroku took a moment to pause. Looking back towards the city center, he froze as he watched in horrified fascination.

In the distance, a huge borealis had grown over the quarters closer to the center of the city, an area that had been inexorably reached by the gradual, raid-by-raid unrolling of the carpet-bombing. The bright light of the fires pushed back the veil of night and the B-29 super fortresses were visible here and there in the sky. For the first time since the very first attack almost three years ago, they flew in low staggered levels. Their long glinting wings, sharp as blades, could be seen through the oblique columns of smoke rising from the city. Their black silhouettes, gliding through the fiery sky, would often suddenly reflect the fire from the furnace below, shining red-gold against the dark roof of heaven or glittering blue, like meteors, in the searchlight beams.

The people around him soon joined Sugoroku's side while others watched out of doors or peered up out of their holes, uttering cries of admiration at this grandiose, almost theatrical spectacle.

The planes had started to move off to further areas, but the wind, still violent, began to sweep up the burning debris beaten down from above. The air was soon filled with live sparks, then with burning bits of wood and paper, until it looked as if the sky was truly raining not with water, but with fire.

Sometimes, flammable liquids were set alight, and the following bomb blasts looked like flaming hair reaching up with red-white tendrils. Dotted red lines from the antiaircraft guns streaked across the sky, but the defenses were nothing and the big B-29s continued to work as if unhampered.

There were intervals while Sugoroku watched that the sky would empty, the planes having disappeared. But fresh waves soon came and the destruction continued.

Flames rose higher into the night, twisting like cyclones of fire in the wild wind across roofs silhouetted in black in a seemingly otherworldly dance. If not for the obvious destruction they were causing, it might almost have been beautiful.

The people watched the ghastly spectacle for some time and would have stayed longer, perhaps even until their deaths, if a struggling group of people had not come running from down the road; some screaming, many hurt, almost all crying. Their faces were covered in soot. Many ran naked, their clothes having been ripped off them by others who were fleeing as well as by the vortices of heat they had only just escaped from. There were even a few whose remaining clothing was still only slightly damp from the water that had been sprayed upon them by firefighters who hoped that it would help some survive the heat and flames that had attacked them on nearly ever side. Older men, women, children that had not left... Even babies carried on backs passed by Sugoroku in a terrified charge and, with a rush that would have made any disease envious, the panicked fever gripped him and those around, and they too joined the flight out of the city, away from the terror.

The struggle to leave the large town was a far from unhampered thing. Throngs of people would join his group unexpectedly and each time there was a moment of tangled confusion as the people tried to push past in their chosen direction. Families become separated while some people were shoved down under the human wave and trampled. Others just seemed to disappear as if in thin air.

Sugoroku and his parents were among a lucky few that by morning, had gained the higher hills, an intact family unit.

For many around him, this was their idea of the end of a war.

For Sugoroku there was more to come.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Quick and the Dead…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	9. Part 1, Chapter 9: The Quick and the Dea...

**Updates** ... Okay...I decided to give you a special and get chapter 9 up sooner for you all. It ties in with chapter 8 to some degree so please enjoy!

**PyroDragon2006** ... Talk about timing! I'm writing about it and you're studying it! There are so many angles in which to view an event, it can be most confusing to know which one to look through. I remember when I was studying it, the numbers and the reasons sadly didn't make that much of an impact on me. They were presented so dryly that for some, it lacked any depth or compassionate thought. To read the first hand accounts of survivors of these numerous events is a startling and life considering thing. I hope that this chapter and the previous one have helped in some small way remind everyone that there's always more than two sides.

**Snow Weaver** ... Yes, unfortunately you'll need a few more tissues. Especially if your imagination is as vivid as Sugoroku's and mine. Don't worry. This is the last of the most terrible stuff. New and better things are just on the horizon!

**Scarab Dynasty** ... I'm pleased you think chapter 8 is so detailed. I felt like I couldn't detail it enough!

**BabyGatomon** ... I'm sorry. It was short, but I hope this makes up for it!

Thank you so much everyone for keeping the reviews coming!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**9. The Quick and the Dead…**

The morning after found Sugoroku and his parents huddled under a tree, cold, wet and tired, but alive. They had no food - there had been no time to grab any - and without thinking of what the next few days would bring them, they also had taken no fresh water. In fact, all that they had was what they wore upon their bodies. Compared to many that lay or sit near them, they had much.

Their group, which now consisted of many others that had melded into their original bunch, had managed to stay together and secure a decently sheltered area of wood. With much hugging, closeness and sharing of clothes, the group had only lost but three very old men and one woman who had not been able to recover from their terror and ill health. Many among them were sick with lungs choked with ash, causing at times a lengthy cacophony of raged coughing at regular intervals. But that, or even the wailing of the many women with them, could not stave Sugoroku's weariness from taking over, and in the wee hours of the early morning as the city continued to burn, he fell asleep.

For a full day and night they stayed on the hill, watching the flames die down lower and lower as the smoke thinned out until they could not wait any longer. They had to return. They had found little food in the surrounding area and what there was had been fought over by the people like animals.

Sugoroku and his parents did not abide by this manner of living, if one could call it that, his father had commented, and so they traveled back to the city. As they entered the outer edges, Sugoroku looked about at the homes and streets, all covered by almost half an inch of ash and soot. It reminded him of a late winter snow that had fallen, though unlike anything pristine and white, it had been a dirty gray black snow that at alternating moments felt powdery and gritty. It was a depressing sight.

Fortunately, Osamu found an unoccupied home and with Sugoroku and Sayuri's help, they - somewhat guiltily - took the blankets, several bags of rice, all the food that was still edible, and even a few cooking utensils. Shortly after, a low flying American plane passed over head, encouraging them to return to the hillside where they found that many of their neighbors had either gone or, having had the same idea, entered the city and scavenged for a few meager necessities as well.

Later that night, while sharing the warmth of a small fire with another family, they watched as the Americans crossed over their city repeatedly, viewing the damage and making note of what they had not hit. Osamu made the decision there that they would return to the city only when they absolutely had to scavenge for food and when they were sure that it would finally be safe to be there permanently. Sugoroku asked when they would know that it was okay, but his father had said no more than, "We will know when it happens."

He at least expected something to happen then and was prepared to wait.

Sugoroku was not so patient.

A day later, under the guise of taking a walk to look for food and more firewood, Sugoroku went back to the city to look around and see more. This was Sugoroku's one failing. If it could be called that.

Ever since birth he had been filled with an unnatural curiosity that forever propelled him forward to see, to challenge and know more than his fair share. To sit still with nothing to occupy him rankled at his very nature and no place had ever been more boring than that hillside. It no longer mattered that they practically fought to live. He had to see…to investigate and discover.

What he 'discovered' was the stuff of nightmares.

Within the city he saw devastation on a scale he had not thought possible. Some 300 B-29s, carrying a combined payload of 2,000 tons of incendiary bombs, had reduced 15.8 square miles of the city to ashes. Scorched and baked into an almost flat desert, the heart of the great city of Tokyo still roiled with a heat not normal for even the worst of summer. Everywhere he looked there were jumbled masses of litter from the bricks that had exploded out from their buildings, telegraph poles and trolley cables making for unnerving reminders of where streets had once been. The loss of over 256 thousand buildings alone had been difficult enough, but the loss of life…was far worse.

Throughout the city, littered like so much rice chafe after a harvest, were the bodies of thousands and thousands of people who had not made it and in his active, imaginative mind, Sugoroku saw every moment of death as clearly as if he had been standing right there with them.

Proper air-raid clothing, as recommended by the government to the civilian population, consisted of a heavily padded hood over the head and shoulders that was supposed to chiefly protect people's ears from bomb blasts, since for months, Tokyo had mostly been fire-bombed. Those that had worn the air-raid clothing the night the incendiary bombs dropped, had found the hoods flamed under the rain of sparks; thus people who did not burn from the feet up burned from the head down. Mothers who carried their babies traditional style, strapped to their backs, would discover too late that the padding that enveloped the infant had caught fire. Panicked inner city dwellers, trying to flee with bundles of food or valuables, had crowded into the rare clear spaces - crossroads, gardens and parks - but the bundles caught fire even faster than clothing and the throngs had flamed from the inside. In more than one of these areas could be found huge piles of people; mobs that had not been able to get free of a fire choked road and so had been able to do no more than climb upon the bodies of those who already had fallen, before they themselves succumbed to the heat and pain and fell where they stood, thus adding to the growing piles. Hundreds of people had given up trying to escape and crawled into the holes that served as shelters. Whole families perished in these holes they had dug under their wooden houses because shelter space was scarce in the overpopulated hives of the poor. All too quickly the houses had collapsed and burned on top of them, braising them where they lay.

In every canal, people had hurled themselves into the water. In shallow places, they had waited, half sunk in noxious muck, mouths just above the surface of the water. Hundreds of these had died not of drowning, but of asphyxiation by the burning air and smoke. In still other water ways, the water became so hot that the luckless bathers were simply boiled alive. Some of these canals ran directly into the Sumida river and when the tide rose, people huddling in them did drown. People had crowded onto bridges, but where the spans were made of steel, they gradually heated. Human clusters clinging to the white-hot railings finally let go, falling into the water where they were carried off on the current. Thousands had jammed the parks and gardens that lined both banks of the Sumida, and as panic had brought ever fresh waves of people pressing into the narrow strips of land, those in front were pushed irresistibly toward the river; whole walls of screaming humanity toppling over and disappearing in the deep waters.

In his path he even found strange mounds of ash scattered about that lay stretched and oblong. It was not until a quick wind came and stirred the mounds like sand on a beach - that he shockingly realized what it was he was looking at. They were the completely incinerated shapes of people who had been reduced by the intense heat to nothing more than a silty gray dirt.

So many ways to die… It was almost impossible to think that anyone could have survived at all. But some had. He among them. And now as he walked back to the hill, stepping around rather than over the cadavers, he knew the question was no longer how or even why people had died. It had become 'how would those that still lived - survive?'

Sugoroku's mind was so numbed by what he had seen, he returned to the hill empty handed and under the eyes of his mother and father, he flopped down to lie beside a small cooking fire, his eyes still wide.

His parents did not ask where he had been and why he came back with nothing. There was no need to. Even if they had not known their son as well as they did, his eyes alone were enough to tell all.

Sugoroku did not go back to the city after that except when it became necessary to find more food. When he did, he went only with his parents, his eyes downcast and kept right before his feet. He would not look up or around any more than he had to. It was weeks before he would even leave the hill alone and when the Americans bombed Tokyo twice more, once in April and once more in May, he had no heart to see how the city looked afterward.

He had seen enough the first time.

* * *

**Chapter Notes... **

It almost seems tragic to me that the world should be so familiar with the Atomic bomb drops on Nagasaki and Hiroshima, and yet the night of March. 9,1945 slips by without much notice.

Just prior to the Great Tokyo Air Raid, American Bomber Command had ordered a dramatic change in tactics. The bomber runs would be made at night, at low altitude and deliver a mixture of high explosive and incendiary bombs. The objective was to turn the closely-packed, wooden homes and buildings prevalent in the Japanese cities, into raging infernos and ultimately into the most destructive of all weapons - the firestorm.

The Allies had first encountered the phenomenon of the firestorm when the British bombed the German city of Hamburg in August of 1943. The night raid ignited numerous fires that soon united into one uncontrollable mass of flame, so hot it generated its own self-sustaining, gale-force winds and literally sucked the oxygen out of the air, suffocating many of its victims. General Lemay hoped to use this force to level the cities of Japan. Tokyo was the first test.

A successful incendiary raid required ideal weather that included dry air and significant wind. Weather reports predicted these conditions over Tokyo on the night of March 9-10, 1945. A force of 334 B-29s was unleashed - each plane stripped of ammunition for its machine guns to allow it to carry more fire-bombs. The lead attackers arrived over the city just after dark and were followed by a procession of death that lasted until dawn. The fires started by the initial raiders could be seen from 150 miles away. The results were devastating: almost 17 square miles of the city were reduced to ashes. Estimates of the number killed immediately range between 100,000 and 200,000, a higher death toll than that produced by the dropping of the Atomic Bomb on Hiroshima and Nagasaki six months later. Though to be fair, the death toll in the long run was much higher due to the effects of radiation and thousands of immediately injured people.

These over a hundred thousand people in Tokyo died not in one quick moment, but in long agonized minutes and hours of torture. They were scorched and boiled and baked to death. There was suffocation, drowning, people were crushed to death beneath the fleeing masses and those not killed outright, were left to lay helplessly as they watched death creep closer and closer.

These facts are not in any way factitious. This is what happened. The accounts are numerous.

Where these incidents war crimes? The opinions are mixed and the views varied. I wish it had not happened and would likely say for the death that was caused then 'Yes' to my question. But when one considers that the Japanese home defense plan included that every able conscious person defend their land with belt bombs, pointed sticks and anything else deadly...well... Just imagine how many more millions could have died before it was completely over. The potential for a complete wipe out of the nation was there since their warrior and Samurai ethics dictated 'No surrender at any cost'.

Next Chapter: Changing Lands…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	10. Part 1, Chapter 10: Changing Lands

**Updates** ... OMG! I really have Sugoroku on the brain! I can't stop jumping ahead to work on future sections with him. He is just so cool, (among other things) but you, unfortunately, have to wait to read them. Sending this out to you all a little earlier this week since I won't be home over the weekend. I have a dog show to go to.

**PyroDragon2006** ... The attack on the citizens was a hard line to go to. I had trouble writing those last two chapters because of my vivid imagination. Basically, when I write it, I see it. The only thing worse is to think that the war could have killed millions more if the Japanese hadn't finally said, "Okay, we give up." They're back up plan for homeland invasion, was that every last man, woman and child left should attack every chance they got with what ever they could find. Not a pretty sight to imagine.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Special thanks to you for reading and reviewing my one shots on Yugi and Jonouchi. Whoo hoo! You rock! I loved the 'Drepressed city, poulation one' line too! I'm glad you enjoyed both because I really enjoyed writing those. : )

**Snow Weaver** ... Don't worry Snow. From here, things begin to turn in a new direction for Sugoroku!

Okay all! Time for a whole new world to emerge. As usual, I thank you all for reading and reviewing when you can. It just totally makes my day!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**10. Changing Lands…**

The Americans had come.

For Sugoroku, the American occupation was a bittersweet event. On the one hand, it signaled the end of their life in the hills, and a return to the comforts of city life, which for him had always been little anyway. But at least they did not have to huddle, three together, under one blanket in the rain, or steal from the houses on the edge of the city to survive anymore. There was a moment of thrill when they looked out at the bay, and saw the American Naval ships sailing serenely to the undestroyed portion of docks still safe to moor too. Osamu announced, "We can return now" and off he went, leading Sayuri and Sugoroku back through what remained of the streets, to where their home once sat.

On the other side of it, the American forces served as a reminder to the boy, that the Emperor's confidence had brought about the attack that resulted in the terror, carnage and destruction he had witnessed back in March.

A part of him despised their presence because of what they had resorted to in order to end the war. Yet a part of him was glad to have them because it ended the hardship with which they had struggled to live for so long. It was a most confusing dilemma.

The Mutou home had managed reasonable well, because of the amount of brick and metal Osamu had used to reinforce it. But there were some wooden portions that had not survived the ravaging fires that had swept through that shocking night back in March. With no school to attend any more, Sugoroku found himself at his father's constant call to "hold this", "lift that", or "stack the bricks here" as they set to work for the next week, rebuilding the little home. It was tiresome work and the young man quickly found himself loathing this manual labor. He would have given anything to sneak away, just once or twice a day, to go play any available game he could find, but his father's eye was on him, and the older man kept him working very nearly from dawn to dusk to waylay any irresponsible behavior.

Sugoroku kept his growing disdain for such work to himself during that time of reconstruction, but when his father announced at the end of the week, that he and Sugoroku would go the following day and look for work at the new hospital centers being built, and perhaps manage to stay on doing cleaning chores, Sugoroku felt a flash of anger surge through him.

Almost four years at that military school had taught Sugoroku that he was above such dirty work. His teachers had repeatedly told him that he had a mind as sharp as any samurai sword, so why should he have to lower himself to menial labor? Besides, the headmaster's bullying of him with the bulk of the classroom chores had long since refined Sugoroku's distaste in cleaning. He'd had enough of that to last two lifetimes.

When he had broached the thought to his father, Osamu was at first surprised, but this was quickly followed with a puffed, angry look that well reminded Sugoroku of a round red beet.

"Mutous work, Sugoroku. They work hard. It is hard work that kept a roof over your head and food in your stomach. You talk about working above your station. You are a boy of only 16, there are no more schools to speak of and the military is gone, so how do you propose to find a job that satisfies your empty head? Without high classes, no university, and no money to afford them even if they were still here, you cannot get the learning you would need to get a job behind a desk. To go about speaking of your military school would be foolish with so many Americans walking our streets. True enough that they give us food and water, and are organizing the people to rebuild the city, but do you think they would show leniency if they found out what you were taught because you are a boy? Boys your age were dieing before them in waves and because of them, the American's own people fell too. No Sugoroku. There is no easy road for us. There is only hard work and you would do well to remember that if you wish to survive the next few years."

"But if I can do more than that, then why shouldn't I?"

Osamu slapped his hands on the newly built table causing the cups of water to jump slightly.

"I will tolerate no disrespect at my table. My word is final Sugoroku. Tomorrow we will find honorable _hard_ work."

Sugoroku could swallow no more of his father's rule and quickly moved away from the table as he stood up.

"Sugoroku," his father warned.

But the mind of even the average teenage boy can only stomach so much authority, and it took only that one call of his name, and the boy was out the door and down the street.

The unfairness of it all! If he had talents that could make life easier, why couldn't he use them? Who was his father to tell him that he had no choice? There was always a choice. Hadn't they drilled that in his head enough during the strategy games to know, that if one looked hard enough at a bad situation, a better option was always available? Options that increased success... Options that brought honor... Options that could bring fame... Options that made life easier...

Who was he to tell Sugoroku, that he could not look for a better option? He was sixteen years old, very nearly fully adult, not some little child. If he wanted to find some better, easier way to earn money, he would do so. That was his choice.

As Sugoroku slowed his steps, he looked up, and saw in the distance from the area of the docks, a flag waving slowly in the muted colors of the evening. Even without full light he could make out its colors. Red, white and blue. The flag of the United States.

That was it he thought.

The Americans.

They had not come to take over Japan. They had no wish to make it their own or rule over it. They had come to stop a war. Though they had come for the country's surrender, they had also come to be sure no further war would be waged in the future. It was only days ago, that word of a great ceremony had been held on one of the American ships, to bring about the officail ending of the war.

Men of importance from many sides had been present for this 'signing,' and from that moment on, there were now constant talks and meetings with these many men and those that the Emporer had choosen to represent him.

The Americans were even now, drafting new rules of leadership for a democratic legislation, making the title of emperor only honorary for their culture so that no one man held such sway ever again.They were at this very moment, beginning the stages of the reconstruction of the country and its infrastructure.

They were mobilizing the people across the country to organize, and begin the rebuilding of their lands and cities and lives.

Schools would be reestablished, and the children that attended them would grow up in the next 20 years under the eyes and instruction of those that would be following the guidelines set forth by the now dominant power that was America. These children would grow to see a new life, a new world, emerge from the ashes.

The earlier turmoil he had once faced over his confusion with this powerful nation slipped out of him, and in its place came an understanding, that these were not truly takers. They were merely men who fought because they had to. They did what they had because they were given no option. And now that it was done, they wanted the people to be able to live normally again. Yes, it would take years to get back to it, but they were helping and laying those foundations even only days after the offical surrender of Japan.

They gave food when there was none. They gave clean water when none could be found. They gave guidance and direction to the very people they had fought against for so long. They gave them assurance of a better life and of freedom.

Of course these last two things would not be fully realized for a long, long time, but the potential was there.

Yes, the United States had taken many Japanese lives, but so too did the Japanese take many American lives, and if not for his own country attacking the American Naval base in Hawaii, those lives might never have been lost in the first place.

The Americans were offering their help to rebuild despite it all, and though it would be no easy undertaking, the people of both sides were ready to try. Some would welcome it. Some would have difficulty changing - like his own father. And some would take a philosophical look and say that it was life, and neither think here nor there over it.

Sugoroku would use it.

As the flag waved once more before his eyes, the boy took a deep cleansing breath, and made up his mind.

Tomorrow he would go down to the docks and wait. Something was bound to come his way, and it would be far easier than the life his father wanted for him.

He would make sure of it.

* * *

Next Chapter: East Meets West…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	11. Part 1, Chapter 11: East Meets West

**Updates** ... More and more and more! This so awesome! I am really very happy you all decided to review, especially those who are new to the Sugoroku following.

Hey! Guess what! I told you all last week I had a dog show to go to, which was why I submitted that last chapter a little early. Well, on Saturday my little rough collie Téa (yes, named after the American Anime version...only because I didn't know her as Anzu yet!) took a third in her American Bred Class and on Sunday she took a first! Her registered name is Sheranda's Faithfully Yours. Get it? _Faithfully_ Yours? I thought it was a nice play on one of my fave characters! She's kind of like the character too. She makes friends easily, sticks with them and can be seriously tough when she has to be. I can't wait to get a male collie and name him Yugi! LOL! His registered name will have 'King of Games' in there somewhere! LOL!

Okay, I know. You're bored now. I'll move on.

**PyroDragon2006** ... I'm sure we've all had those moments where a mom or dad just totally ticks us off and Sugoroku should be no different...especially with the way he thinks! This is how he is able to see beyond what we would normally think first and move on.

**Ciardra** ... Welcome aboard! Glad you're liking my 'spin' lol. I like 'malnourished' to describe his character. It completely fits the way I think about his part in the Manga/Anime. I'd never heard of "Ender's Game" before your review, so I looked it up to find out what it was, and now I've got to read it! It sounds like an awesome book! Just the kind of thing a sci-fi nut like myself should have read already! I can see why you thought it seemed so similar. Actually, the idea of the military school for my story was pulled from truth to some degree as Germany was big into starting their soldiers as early as possible right before WWII. In a superb and un-passable display of subconscious propaganda, Hitler actually held boys shooting contests, model plane flying contests, among other events, and the winners of such contests were taken and put into special schools to enhance those abilities. Japan did a similar thing later in after the example of the Germans, though it is not known to what degree they actually went with it. I just filled in the blanks with my own imagination.

**beginner150** ... Another new face! Glad to have you here and I'm very pleased that I've caught your attention...or should I say that Sugoroku has caught your attention? No matter. Keep checking back. Soooooo much more too come!

**Tamara Raymond** ... I missed you Tamara! We all get busy sometimes so no worries. I'm VERY happy you're liking the imagery. Its my middle name! Okay, so its not. Its really Anne, not that anyone cares... I received your e-mail with your suggestions on the chapters and I've made many of the gramatical changes you included for chapters 6 -9. As usual, I appreciate your suggestions and will also be going back to see about juicing up Sugoroku's personal thoughts for chapters 8 and 9. Any changes I make regarding content, will be announced here in my greetings. As for the B-day thing...I didn't know what his birthday was before I started this, so I just made a guess based on his personality and the similar birth signs. Boy was I off! However, now that I know, I can make a few adjustments. Though it throws my outline off slightly, I can make it work out just fine and happily, it actually compliments what happens later with his interactions with a character in a future section I've been working on... So as usual, I thank you. : )

**Babygatomon** ... Welcome back Babygatomon! I thank you for the compliment on my writing. I'm thrilled you're so happy with it and my portrayal of Sugoroku thus far.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Just want to thank you for that little blurb you gave my story on chapter two of your "YuGiOh In Production: Memos of the Cast". That was awesome...as was the inclusion of Sugoroku, aka Solomon, aka Grandpa, in chapter two. That was so funny. I could so see Grandpa embarrassing Yugi like that! And yes, be-speckled people rock, especially since I'm one of those! OO

Looks like that's everybody so far. Boy! If the Sugoroku train gets any bigger, I'll need to add another passenger car and put these greetings at the end! ... Okay everyone! Here we go!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**11. East Meets West…**

Sugoroku woke early the next morning, and before his parents had even yet stirred, he was up and out the door, swiftly on his way to the docks.

Within him, there sat a swelled feeling of excitement and almost elation, at the thought of seeing his first American, up close and personal. He hoped that they would be as open to him as he planned to be with them.

He had worked himself up most of the night, imagining all the ways he could get himself noticed and perhaps liked, and with a number of, in his mind, truly imaginative and ingenious ways to get their attention, he felt ready to take them on. But unfortunately for Sugoroku, he had forgotten one thing. He was still just a boy. A rather small one for his age at that, and when he reached the fence that separated the dock where the American ships were berthed, he stopped dead as his eyes widened at the immensity of what lay before him, putting into perspective very quickly, how tiny in size and life he really was.

The massive creations of the Americans sat still in the water, their steel gray-blue hulls shimmering in the early morning sun. Fairly bristling with armament and gun barrels with bore holes bigger than his head, the ships alone were enough to make him shrink back and reconsider. But when he saw the large American men, running and drilling about everywhere; he was, for the briefest second, almost positive his father might have been right from the start. But something staid his feet from turning. He made no retreat.

His curiosity, as had happened so many times before this, had won out, and the boy stayed.

He gazed in awe at the men as they ran almost tirelessly back and forth across the docks. He studied them as they marched in precision drills, turning as if they were really one machine instead of individual men. He gawked as they carried heavy bulks of food and water to trucks, with little more than a light sweat, and he watched them go on and off their ships like swarms of ants in a colony.

For more than half the day he watched them. He could not get enough of it! They were so different! So interesting! They way they moved, the way they talked… Though it was still his country, it was like another world beyond that fence.

But the standing moment of the day for Sugoroku, was the moment he saw several men set out a little table and chairs, and start to play a game.

He could not see everything from where he stood, but there was a board set on the table, and on the board were raised pieces that were moved about from turn to turn. Straining his eyes and every muscle, he leaned forward on the fence and tried desperately to discern what the game could be.

Suddenly, one of the men, a sandy haired fellow with a wide mouth, waved his hand at Sugoroku.

No.

Not waved…

Gestured.

He had gestured to Sugoroku as if to say 'come over'.

Disbelievingly, Sugoroku looked to either side of himself, then behind, just to be sure there was no one else around that the man could be inviting.

When Sugoroku looked back, the same man gestured again.

Come over.

Fear and excitement flooded through him simultaniously and unable to resist, he quickly clamored over the fence and approached the little group, his heart eager and his eyes wide with energized curiosity. When he was within 10 feet, he paused as he took them in. They were even bigger up close!

The sandy haired man spoke to Sugoroku in a voice which to him, seemed rather soft and smooth compared to the way the men of his culture spoke, with their hard accents and clipped pronunciations.

Sugoroku tilted his head slightly and attempted to repeat what the man had said, but to the Americans it came out as "comb meer".

Several of the man laughed, but it was a good natured sound in the boy's ears and he smiled a bit as well.

The sandy haired man put his index finger up as if to say 'wait', then cupped his hand around his ear as though saying 'listen', and after repeating the same phrase, he then pointed at Sugoroku with a nod.

Ever game to try something new, Sugoroku gave English a second try and out came "C…come heeere". A little drawn out, but good enough. The men smiled as they nodded while the sandy haired man smiled broadly, and after saying the phrase one last time, he again motioned with his hand. Sugoroku smiled to himself, realizing he had properly guessed the first time, the meaning of the words. 'Come here' meant to come over to the caller, and this he did, taking the last few steps before the smiling sandy haired man.

The fellow ruffled Sugoroku's wild hair in an almost playful manner as he continued to grin. The men around them were speaking now in turns, and while he could not understand the meaning of any of it, he understood their inflection and their expressions, and they seemed pleased to have him there.

He watched as his sandy haired inviter spoke to a man, who then nodded and ran off to a nearby ship, and for what seemed like ages, he looked from man to man, listening intently to their voices, and wondering what was going to happen, the game all but forgotten. At least, for the moment.

After some number of minutes, the man who had gone off had returned, but he was no longer alone. Beside him stepped a slightly younger man. A young Japanese man…in an American uniform!

Sugoroku stared at the dark eyed newcomer in open shock as the Japanese man spoke in English easily to the other men, before looking at the boy and smiling.

"Good afternoon," he said in Japanese.

Curiously, there was a distinct lack of accent to it. He was speaking his language, but it was if he was not Japanese at all.

"My voice surprises you?"

Sugoroku started slightly.

"Yes," he admitted. Then, "You, were taken by the Americans?"

The man chuckled softly.

"No. I _am_ an American," he replied.

Sugoroku blinked rapidly several times, before the man supplied more to his answer.

"I was born and raised in America. My grandparents moved there some number of years ago, became citizens, and my mother was born an American, as was my father through his family."

"That is why they put you in their military?"

"No, I volunteered."

Amazement was Sugoroku's as he thought over the idea that this man, this Japanese man, had willingly offered himself to fight with the Americans against the country of his origin.

"Why?"

"For the same reason any man might willingly serve. To protect their country. I live in America. It is my home and as such, I will be loyal to her and defend her, as any man here in Japan might defend this country."

Sugoroku nodded as his initial surprise faded. He could understand that. This man, though he was descended from Japanese natives, was no longer truly Japanese per se. At least not in mind. He was American...Japanese American. This man had grown up in their world, and so made it his. It explained why he now served with these men and why he had no true Japanese accent.

A question was asked by the sandy haired man, and the Japanese American nodded in answer before saying, "My friend here is Mark Sayers and my name is Thomas Ito. Please, what is your name?"

"Mutou Sugoroku," was the boy's almost proud reply.

Speaking again in English, his new friend Thomas introduced him to the other men. The smiling Mark held his hand out and saying "Sugoroku" in greeting, held his hand out.

"Mutou," corrected the boy as he took hold of the man's hand and found it shaken quite firmly.

Thomas shook his head, "Forgive me for not explaining. In America, most people introduce themselves with their first name before their family name. When one man does not know another well, or beyond a professional level, they will say 'Mister' before the other man's family name. I would be Mr. Ito. It would be the same way you say Ito-san for formality. Friends and family of a person, or those that the person designates as acceptable, may call him by his first name. I introduced you as Sugoroku Mutou, as would be their custom. He, in his way of friendliness, called you by your first name. If you truly desire being called by your family name, I can tell them."

Their customs, being only marginally different, didn't seem to present any possible problem to Sugoroku, and in his beginning steps of acquaintance with these men, it seemed the better course to allow them their habits. It was for him, a special delight to be already acknowledged in the fashion of a friend, and on the lesser side, his breaking away from his father's ways made anything different, very welcome.

"No," he said, "They may call me Sugoroku."

The tone with which he replied, made it clear that no translation was needed for the men to understand, and they nodded in acknowledgement.

After a long moment, Thomas said, "They say that you have been watching from beyond the fence for much of the day, and when they came out to relax, you seemed especially interested."

The reason for Sugoroku's original curiosity restored, the boy looked at the board on the table, and the intensity with which he stared at it, made it clear enough what his true interest had been all along.

"I was interested in their game," came the boy's distracted answer.

The fair skinned American, Mark, looked at the boy's flushed excited face, and for a second time, needed no translation to understand what was said.

He quickly stood, and saying the boy's name, offered the chair to Sugoroku.

The boy turned his face up to look at Mark in stark surprise. He wanted Sugoroku to sit? Did that mean he would get to play too?

Hoping beyond hope that the answer was a positive, Sugoroku sat down in a hurry, and looked back up at Mark expectantly. The men chuckled as Mark grinned his easy grin and kneeled beside Sugoroku. He, and the man on the other side of the table, reset the pieces of the game quickly as Sugoroku watched, easily noting the definite order as to which piece went where.

When the board was set, Mark swept his arm above the board and said, "Chess."

"Chess," repeated Sugoroku, understanding it was the name of the game.

Mark picked up each piece on the board in turn, and as he held them individually before Sugoroku, he said their name once, before letting Sugoroku try. Each piece was then followed with a demonstration of its movement abilities, including how it could take another piece.

This game lesson culminated with a quick show of the object of the game. To capture the opponent's king.

Sugoroku had suspected that this was object of the game after being introduced to only four of the pieces, and had happily realized, that with some minor differences in style, movement, and rules, that this "Chess" was no more than the American version of Shoji.

He smiled broadly.

As long as he remembered what moved how, he would be able to play this game very easily. There were fewer pieces and an opponent could not use a captured piece to make his own army bigger. It was so much more simplified than the game he had obsessed over for most of his life.

What a surprise these Americans were in for!

* * *

Next Chapter: A New Job And The Issue Of 25 Yen…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	12. Part 1, Chapter 12: A New Job And The Is...

**Updates** ... And here we are again, back to read another segment in the life of Sugoroku Mutou. I've started working on Part 2 (finally!) and its getting scary because the chapters are longer and thus takes more time to write. Me thinks that you all will be catching up to me very soon. I'm only a few chapters ahead and the steam has been running a little low. I do believe I may have to try coffee beans in the engine instead of just Pepsi...

**Snow Weaver** ... Don't worry about not reviewing for one chapter. I'm just glad you didn't jump ship (or should I say train?) on Sugoroku! LOL. He really has a neat life. At least I think so anyway. Believe me...its VERY far from being complete...and so is he. : )

**BabyGatomon** ... You still have a little ways to go before we get to how Yugi becomes a permanent fixture in the game shop...which is already plotted out in my story outline. Just remember that there's going to be tons more before then. BTW... Glad you got my e-mail: )

**PyroDragon2006** ... Does Sugoroku learn English? Ummm...the answer will be in the next chapter, lol. It was a little weird for me too when I initially started writing this, to think of Sugoroku as anything other than an old man. But I've long since gotten over that. What really helped was reading the Manga on how Sugoroku found the puzzle. It can be found at the following address... http / www . janime . biz / manga / scan . html . Go down to the bottom of the page to "Episode 279 - The Millennium Treasure", and just start going through page by page. If you really study his expressions and body language, you can see a lot of who he was as younger man. It isn't translated, but you can find a full translation here... http / theria . net / yugioh / manga / 279 . html . He was, in my opinion, a very interesting character, and I find that the more I go in to who his was then, the more it helps me understand who is when we finally meet him in Yugi's story. He is a very deep person with his own secrets and mystery, and the only way to get to that, is to have led a very varied and unique life.

**Ciardra** ... OSC may have had a weird name, but it certainly didn't hurt his writing any, did it? Thank you for sharing this author with me. Perhaps a few others will be encouraged to check out some new works as well. As for winning money, all I can say is...Sugoroku will definitely have his share.

**beginner150 **... In answer to your questions... "How far do you plan on doing this? Do you plan to go all the way to when he's in Egypt? Or is it too early to ask?"... my answer...**_ALL THE WAY BABY! _**I've got my entire outline for his life from his end of things, set through to the end of the Manga! I even lead into my other chapter fic I've had simmering on my hard drive for some time. No, that one isn't about Sugoroku. Its our normal YGO gang working overtime again! It mostly centers around Anzu and Yugi to some degree - but that's all I'm telling: ) Side note about Sugoroku in Egypt...I will be re-telling it from a much more personal angle than the Manga gives. I am seriously looking forward to doing that and giving him so much more depth.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... I enjoyed chapter 11 as well and I agree that there has to be some interaction to keep the whole thing grounded to the time frame. If you rush through too much, it doesn't seem real enough. Besides which, it is these interactions that help to define who Sugoroku will become. Glad you enjoyed it though and keep reading, 'cause there's lots more interaction to come!

All aboard everyone! The Sugoroku train leaves now!

* * *

Trixie21

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**12. A New Job And The Issue Of 25 Yen …**

Surprise was not the word.

They had been stunned beyond belief.

When Sugoroku had played every man present twice, and lost not a single game, the men had been in total shock, and it hadn't taken Thomas to translate it for the boy to know. He had in fact, smiled smugly the entire time as the men scratched their heads in confusion over it. It wasn't until Mark finally instructed Thomas to ask Sugoroku how the boy could play so well, that realization dawned on the men. They had been to some degree duped...by a kid.

Having found out that the boy had already been playing a similar game for quite a few years now, the men could only shake their heads while some laughed uproariously. Not a man among them was mad. Not even a fellow that lost 25 yen over his bet that at least _someone_ from the group would beat Sugoroku.

When it was all over, and the men had to return to the ship for some rest and dinner, Mark had opted to sit with Sugoroku, and with Thomas's help, Sugoroku and the man enjoyed a quiet hour of talking about who they were and their experiences so far.

Sugoroku did not mention the military school. Young, eager, but far from being stupid, it was the one piece of advice his father had given him that he did agree with. He was making new friends of these Americans, and he did not want to risk letting them know what he had been a part of.

By the end of their time walking along the wharf, Mark and Sugoroku had become easy friends despite the language barrier.

Sugoroku now knew that Mark was a crew member of a Destroyer ship called the USS Pemberton. He was usually found in the engine room as a machinist, but he also had a fill in position in communications as well. Since landing on the Tokyo docks, he had been in charge of a group of men, who had to regularly transport, and disperse, food and water to the people across the city. The ship's Japanese-American Military Intelligence Service (MIS) interpreter, Thomas, often went along to help the native Japanese understand what the American men said, and what the rules were; such as how many packages of food and containers of water each family could receive.

Thomas though, was often heckled by the very people he was trying to help, as some of them had labeled him a traitor.

Sugoroku hadn't liked that idea one bit. As far as he knew, there was no reason for such dislike towards Thomas, and it wasn't a pleasant thing to imagine. Especially when he was only trying to help the people.

There wasn't much to be done about it though. The Americans had offered to pay Japanese men for guide services, but there had been as yet, no takers. This would have at least left Thomas able to continue his duties, translating information from the Japanese officials that came to the docks often, or when American naval officers went to meetings with them. It slowed things down when he had to be translating road signs instead of contract meetings, and when he was sent to the meetings, the American men often ended up in the wrong places with their food and water. It was, after all, quite difficult to be in two places at once.

Sugoroku was struck then, with the struggle that was going on even within a group as strong as the Americans, and before he knew what he was doing, he was offering to be a guide to them. He did know how to find most areas of the city, especially the more destitute ones, and being a native, he could easily tell the people they met, what needed to done if he knew in advance. Though he was only just beginning to get used to hearing the American words and sounds, he was sure he could learn enough of it reasonably quickly, to understand a few basic commands or orders.

When Mark heard Thomas suggest Sugoroku's interest, the man's eyes widened in surprise. Men with whole families to feed had refused the offer, and here was a kid, a boy, stepping up to the challenge as easily as if he had been asked to say his name.

Mark smiled and clapped his hand on Sugoroku's shoulder as he nodded once. He spoke for several long moments and Sugoroku looked at Thomas expectantly.

Thomas translated, "Mark is most thankful for your offer to help and he says that he is very impressed with your courage and understanding. He says that he wishes there were more boys like you in the world, and even in our own country. He believes that more like you would most likely bring about a stronger, more reliable peace, and there would be less reason to fight if those people were as willing as you, with trying to understand and learn about the other side. He would be very grateful to have your help and asks that if possible, he would need you here early in the morning."

Sugoroku grinned broadly as he nodded enthusiastically. Early morning would not be a problem at all.

"We must return to our ship now, but Mark also asks that you take this, and use it for you and your family."

Sugoroku looked down at Mark's proffered hand and stared. In the man's large hand was the 25 yen he had won off the other man who had lost his earlier bet.

"Why would he give his money to me?"

"Because you are the one who earned it," said Thomas, "You are the one who played the game and won. Besides, he has no need of it at the moment. It is better spent by one who can use it, and since you are a friend, it is happily given."

Sugoroku's hands shook as he reached out and took the money. He was being given money for something he so easily did without hardly thinking. It almost didn't seem right. But then again, who was he to refuse a gift? Not that he would have attempted to anyway. To do so would have been an affront to the customs with which he had been raised. So, he took it.

Feeling rather pleased with himself, that he had made such a fast friend, managed to get a job and made 25 yen all in one day, Sugoroku very nearly floated home on invisible wings what with the excited euphoria that filled him.

It was a shame that his father however, did not share such excitement, or hold much pride to his son's accomplishment. In fact, when Sugoroku had proudly placed the coins on the table, and announced his new partnership with the American naval men, Osamu could only stand in mute shock at the news. Then, as if a switch had suddenly been flicked, the man came to life and grabbing the money off the table, he went to the door and tossed it outside as hard as he could.

Horrified, Sugoroku moved forward in a rush to go and fetch the money off the ground before some passerby could pick it up, but the door was closed before him immediately, and Osamu stood before it, a glare across his face.

"I will not have their piteous handouts in my house," he breathed in barely controlled anger.

Sugoroku looked at the man.

"Father, it isn't a hand out! I won that money. I earned it. I played their game of chess and I beat them all. It was my reward."

"Earned it? You did nothing but play a game! You did not work for it! I tell you, Sugoroku, that you will get nowhere playing games in life. Life is serious. It is hard and tiresome work. It is struggle and strife with little reward, and the sooner you accept that fact, the sooner you will able to live like any other normal man. Until then, you will be nothing but a child, and I will accept no money in my house that is not brought home through hard work. Working for the Americans I can forgive, even though I am displeased with it because it would not have occurred without you disobeying me, but I will not forgive your soft attitudes towards honest money, and laziness. Now go to your room."

Indignation rose in the boy, and he found himself bolder with a growing sense of unfairness for his father's opinions.

"But I did have to work for it! I played 10 games of chess to get this much. Who knows how much more I could get if I had played even more."

Osamu would not hear another word, and instead roared back, "Go to your room!" before Sugoroku could say anymore.

Biting back his tongue so hard it almost bled, Sugoroku did as his father ordered, and flopped down onto his bed, anger raging in his mind.

25 yen wasted! He hated that his father was so stuck in the past and could not see forward to the future. Here was a way to make money with little effort, and he could not see the use of it. The man refused to think that there was any way to work for money other then his way. What was so wrong about doing work his son's way?

He continued to stew over it late into the night, and perhaps would have persisted well past midnight, if his mother had not come in when she did and sat on the edge of his bed.

"Still angry?" she asked.

Sugoroku didn't answer. Instead he gave a sullen look.

"Sugoroku, perhaps you should try to understand how he views work and what you are doing."

"I understand perfectly how he views both. If it is not his way, or I am not like him, he won't accept. What more is there to understand?"

Sayuri pursed her lips slightly.

"You are very much like your father, Sugoroku."  
The boy looked at his mother in disbelief.

"It's true," she insisted. "You are every bit as stubborn and bull headed as he."

"Stubborn?" he asked in surprise.

"Of course. Your individual ideas may be different, but your dedication to do what works best for you is most unmovable. It isn't that your father thinks that as his son, you should have to do what he has had to do all his life. He simply dislikes the idea that you could raise yourself out of our world without his help."

"But why would he have a problem with that if I can make enough money to make his life easier as well? Think how much less he would have to work. I could even put myself into a higher schooling."

"But he had wanted to be more a part of that, or even responsible for it. Imagine what that would be like for him, how the people we have lived around for so many years would look at him. 'Look! There is Osamu Mutou. His son is a success because of a father's hard work.' He wanted to be the one to get us free from this house and out of this station. When his son is capable of doing at 15 what he could not do by 50, well, it doesn't take a great deal of intellect to see what a failure he might see himself as."

"No one would call him a failure if he was able to live with ease."

"No one but himself."

"So it's his pride that keeps him from seeing how much I could help?"

"And it is yours that makes you feel you are above his."

There was silence.

"Sugoroku, there is still much you could learn from your father if you would just settle down and give him a chance."

"Will he give me one?"

"That you must ask him yourself. In the meantime you should keep this a secret…," there was the sound of coins clinking onto his bed and Sugoroku looked to see the 25 yen falling from his mother's hand, "…and use it for yourself."

"I brought it home for all of us to use."

Sayuri nodded.

"I know, and I am pleased that you would. But your father won't accept it."

"Then you take this," said Sugoroku as he pushed half the pile back to her, "and I'll keep the rest. Hide it if you have to. Use it when you really need to, or just buy something for yourself."

Sayuri sighed before she gave another single nod, and took the remaining coins.

"Very well, but please Sugoroku...tell me that you will at least consider what I've said. Your father loves you very much, and he doesn't want to be outside your life."

"All right, I will. But, do you think he can ever look at me as more than just a copy of himself?"

"In time, yes. Just be patient. Change does not come easy for him."

"I wish it did."

A gloomy look passed across his mother's delicate face.

"So do I, Sugoroku. So do I."

* * *

Next Chapter: The Trying And Learning Of New Things…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	13. Part 1, Chapter 13: The Trying And Learn...

**Updates** ... I tried to upload this last night, but the site was mondo busy and the servers were overloaded. So sorry for the one day delay. Anyway, I don't know why, but this has to be my least interesting chapter so far...at least for me. But this is the way it came out, so here it is...

**Snow Weaver** ... Pride can be a bit of a stopper can't it? Thank goodness for understanding mothers!

**PyroDragon2006** ... For some reason, no matter what I tried, that second link to the translations would not some up. So here it is again for you. Just take out the spaces. : ) http / yugioh / manga /279. html Motherhood is a mysterious thing. I know people who never wanted children, or have anything to do with them, and after having one or two themselves, they're a totally different person. Some say its instinct, some say its taught...personally, I think its both nature and nurture. So you took a look at those Manga pages of young Sugoroku? Was he an interesting character or what?

**beginner150 **... Oh I'll be rockin' for some time on this one! LOL.

**Ciardra** ... Whether they want to admit it or not, men are competitive. Some on lesser levels than others, but they are. It even extends to fathers to their sons and vice versa. Throughout history, the arguments, the battles, the competition between a father and his son, have shaped and changed the landscape of the world. For Osamu and Sugoroku, that competition will be just as important to the future of this story and, in my opinion, play strongly into Yugi's story as well. A father should always love his son, but they don't always have to agree.

**BabyGatomon** ... Glad you liked chapter 12. We all have moments where we don't necessarily see eye to eye with our parents and with Sugoroku's strong independent nature, it only stands to reason that he and his father might have their moments of conflict.

And now that that's all done... read on!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**13. The Trying And Learning Of New Things …**

The next morning found Sugoroku up and at the table, drinking a cup of tea before his father had even gotten out of bed. It was still a bit early, however, and the boy sat waiting. He was going to try his mother's advice and give his father more of a chance.

When the older Mutou had finally appeared, Sugoroku favored him with a long look as he greeted him. Osamu glanced at his son briefly, greeting him in a distant fashion, and sat down to his breakfast with nothing more to say. Sayuri looked over at her son and nodded and he, in return, gave a silent sigh.

"I'm starting my job with the Americans today," he said casually.

Osamu said nothing.

Sugoroku rolled the inside of his lower lip between his teeth.

It was clear the older man was going to make this difficult.

"I will be showing them where their food drops throughout the city are located, so they can have an easier time getting food to the people that are still without."

Osamu continued to chew his food before taking a quick sip tea.

Sugoroku looked at his mother helplessly. How was he going to learn from his father if the man wouldn't even speak?

The woman nodded encouragingly at her son as if to say 'keep trying'.

So Sugoroku did.

"I am sure I will learn many new American words today."

Osamu stood, and after finishing his tea in one gulp, he turned and headed for the door.

Sugoroku turned to look over at his mother quickly in confusion. What was he supposed to do now? He could not believe the man was actually going to leave and not remark about a single thing.

But he was wrong. Just before he had stepped through the door to leave, Osamu paused, and without looking back he said, "English."

Sugoroku blinked.

"The language they speak is called English."

And with that, he left.

The boy's eyebrow arched up, and he and his mother looked at each other, both at a loss for words.

Well, Sugoroku could at least say he _did_ try, and his mother could also say that he _had_ learned something from the man that day. Of course, he was more positive about that after he asked Thomas, just a little later, if what his father had said was the truth.

"Yes. That is true," concurred his friend.

"Why would they call it English then if they call themselves Americans?"

"Because many of the early settlers were people who left their native England to find political and religious freedom. Though there were many immigrants from other countries as well, the main bulk were of English birth, many having came over under the hand of the English king of those times. Over those early years, it became clear that England was the dominating force behind the taming of the new American colonies, so even those of different heritages began to learn English in order to conduct much needed trade and commerce with those that were more populous."

"So their language hails of their own beginnings then. Much like my own."

"To some degree yes. In the case of your native tongue, however, many of your present words, both written and spoken, have changed considerably over the years. Some characters you draw now are based not on the item they originally represented in Chinese, but on the sound they elicited. Many characters you draw now have also been dramatically modified from the original as well. Within the English language, there were influences from many more than just one or two surrounding cultures that date back thousands of years. But once the base of it was established, it primarily went unchanged. The only exceptions to note is that within some areas of the States, there are certain words that may mean totally different things to others because of the individual cultural influences. It was not uncommon for Germans to settle in the same areas as other Germans, Italians with other Italians and so on."

"So when one speaks English in America, one may find themselves saying words that are German, Italian or something else all in one sentence?"

"It's a possibility depending on where you are at."

Sugoroku pondered that for a moment.

"Is it…difficult to learn it?" he asked.

"I have grown up with it, so it is not difficult to me. But I have heard some teachers of languages say that it is relatively easy to learn compared to some others. What is usually most difficult for the newcomer of the language, is the difference between speaking it as they speak it, and writing it in a grammatically correct form."

"You mean to say, that they write it differently than the way they say it?"

"Partially, yes. Newcomers will often learn to speak the language in a grammar style class, which emphasizes correct structural use of the words. However, the average American will not normally talk that way. They usually speak in a much more relaxed fashion. When a foreigner has learned it as a second language, through correct grammar in a class, it often sounds rather odd to the Americans when that person attempts to talk to them. It is stiff and stilted."

"Ah! Almost like you!"

Thomas looked at Sugoroku curiously and the boy quickly explained.

"You speak Japanese not as your life, but as an addition to it. It sounds odd to many people here because it is so soft."

"I hadn't thought of it like that. But it does make sense. My mother learned Japanese first from her parents who came over from Japan, but when she started school she had to know English. Because it was so needed, she actually taught me more English first with Japanese mixed in. From playing with my friends, I learned English as they spoke it around me, and I used Japanese with family. Our emphasis on it has softened over the years, so I was not schooled in sounding like a perfectly normal Japanese native."

The boy nodded.

"So, it would be better to learn the language from the people as they speak it, not as they teach it."

"For practical purposes I would agree with you," replied Thomas.

"Then I shall ask you and Mark to teach it to me in that manner."

"As you like. I would be most happy to help you."

Sugoroku's eyes were round with eagerness.

"Now! I want to start now! I want to speak it as well as you do."

Thomas smiled with a laugh.

"No time like the present, yes? Well then my friend, listen closely. There can be no better way to learn it, than through life with it. I will speak as much of it as I can to you from this point on so that you become used to it. We will begin with the objects around us today, since you will need those words to do your duty as a guide more effectively."

Sugoroku nodded.

And his American English lessons began.

They started with the simple objects, such as 'ship, truck, crate, rice, water, dock', as it was these things that he was observing at that very moment, what with the men loading shipments of food from the ships onto the waiting trucks. But once they were on the road, Sugoroku could hardly keep up with the words that Thomas and Mark called out to him. A 'sign' was labeled as such barely before they sped past it, and 'men, women, children and people' were called to him just when a throng of the mentioned existents had come upon them. For the briefest of moments, the poor boy could not be sure who was actually what just then. Without the patience of Thomas and Mark, it might have been too easy for him to later mistakenly call a 'man', a 'child' and a 'woman', a 'man'. But they led his eye with waves of their hands to the correct representatives, and it was in short order that he knew and understood the terms given.

Truthfully speaking, it was in short order that he quickly learned any object word spoken to him even that first day. With an eye for subtlety and an ear for all new information, Sugoroku proved to be a most keen and quick student to the language and, in only weeks, could reasonably convey and understand the basics of what had to be done, or was needed in relation to his job.

So quickly was he learning it, that after only the first two weeks of his added help, Thomas was no longer accompanying them on the food runs anymore, as he was needed more often elsewhere. Sugoroku was told to which prefecture each delivery was to be made in the morning, and from there he led them as directly as he could with few, if any, mistakes. His help had even added to the spare free time the men he ran with were allotted, and this was a bonus to him as they usually ended up playing chess by the end of the day.

An even bigger bonus was the money he made during these games.

Just as he had done with his childhood friends, he and his friends from the USS Pemberton quickly found that the new ships, coming and going on an almost daily basis, always seemed chock full of willing challengers. Eager to pass a little time in a match with the boy; usually at the expense a few dollars, yen, or even other items of worthwhile value, cigarettes being a common favorite; these men came and they went...losers every time.

In most instances, a little lighter in their purses and possessions, and even a few, a little _enlightened_ as well as to the true innocence of a certain short, 15 year old, Japanese boy with wild black hair.

Sugoroku could not help but fall in love with this arrangement completely. He was working with people whose company he enjoyed, he was quickly learning a new language, he was playing a game with new people everyday, winning every time, and always given a large share of the winnings his friends made off of his talent. His friends made such a big deal of him every time, that he quickly became a friend to very nearly every enlisted man on board the Pemberton. It was to the point that men he knew would greet him cheerfully as they passed by him, even when in moving trucks. Often times, he was the only one some of these men would greet, even when he was surrounded by ten others!

He was the celebrity and main attraction every afternoon, and the men were glad enough to pass along the information to him of when a new ship would be pulling in. New ships meant new challengers, and all he had to do was sit there and wait.

_They_ always came to him.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Setting of Stage One…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	14. Part 1, Chapter 14: The Setting of Stage...

**Updates** ... I felt so bad about chapter 13 being so lackadaisical, I just had to make it up to you by giving you 2 chappies at once! Enjoy: )

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**14. The Setting of Stage One …**

Sugoroku was quickly becoming well accustomed to the American idea of life, and perhaps too quickly, to their attitudes as well. As the weeks rolled on, and the language barrier continued to diminish, the boy found himself more and more attempting to emulate the people that he worked for. It wasn't truly because he wanted them to be totally happy with him. It was mostly because he found he _liked_ their style.

They had an easy relaxed manner. They were open to good humor. They made friends relatively easily. They were proud of themselves for being themselves and never afraid to show it. They were independent as a man yet loyal to their company and to their country. They enjoyed leisure when the work was done and didn't worry about tomorrow. In their opinion, it would happen when it got around to it, and it was better dealt with then. They took their orders quickly, but often improved upon them if the option to do so was available. Even better, their commanding officers praised such initiative.

These were ideals that Sugoroku found he liked very much. He did not understand that it was his own individuality, so similar to the American's thinking, that made it such an easy process to assimilate. All he knew for sure was that he was drawn to it.

On the backside of it, too, there was still his need to be different than his father, and in his mind there was nothing more different than the Americans. He was still trying, albeit rather unsuccessfully, to follow his mother's advice and be open to his father's ideas and standards. But it seemed that nothing was going to please the man unless Sugoroku gave in to following him around. For Sugoroku, such conformity to his father's limited life was not an option.

He had tasted too much freedom and choice of will. He was given privilege and responsibility. He knew what admiration and acceptance was. Having been given so little of these things in his school years, he held these ideas in high regard, and began to guard them almost jealously. He was even growing to find that the more these ideas were given to him, the more he refused to give them up. So much so, that by the following spring, when his devotion to those ideas was tested, he made his choice almost without hesitation, and in so doing, said goodbye to what little was left of his Japanese frame of mind.

The events that proceeded it were thus…

That 1946 March day in itself had been the dreariest and dullest of days, as the early days of March often are. It had been a soggy sort of affair in which it did not actually rain, but a heavy mist seemed to just sit over the city, soaking anyone without rain gear down to the skin, as thoroughly as if it had actually poured.

Sugoroku had been given a rain poncho to keep the worst of it from him, but as the day and the work went on, he found it was little to no help at all. The puddles created in the potholed streets of the city - which was actually beginning to look like a city again - had managed at every opportunity, to send a little water his way every time he, someone, or something, splashed through it. By the time they were done their route, Sugoroku was not just soaked, he was literally drenched as if he'd been caught in a monsoon rain! He was quite a miserable sight to see and he was immensely irritated at it, but Mark and his fellow shipmates took some sympathy on Sugoroku, and managed to get him permission to come aboard their ship to change into something dry.

At the mention of this new privilege, Sugoroku's annoyance left him immediately and a mile wide grin crossed his face. He was actually beside himself with delight at this new discovery and more than a little over eager to get aboard. So eager in fact, that he stepped onto the gang plank without hesitation…and nearly fell off! If not for Mark's quick hand, he might well have ended up in the bay. The water, though so far into the bay and away from the ocean, still was subject to the ebb and flow of the ocean's tides. As happens every spring, there was always a stronger chop to it as the waters changed in both temperature and current, and that day was no exception.

Sugoroku had never been on a boat before, and while he understood that they of course moved as per the whims of the water, he had forgotten to be cautious. He looked up sheepishly, expecting someone to laugh, but no one did. They merely smiled at him and Mark helped him the rest of the way after warning him to 'Hold on'. He did hold on, but it was hard to move and not look everywhere at once, without forgetting to look at what he was reaching to hold onto.

As he was led into the lower decks, he found that the doors and passage ways were surprisingly tiny, and many times, when two Americans came to the same point at the same time, one would almost have to completely turn to their side to allow the other through. Pipes of all sizes seemed to run in every direction, including up and down the walls of the halls and rooms that they passed, and after tripping only once, he quickly got into the habit of lifting his feet over the raised bottoms between the separate corridors.

Once in the crews quarters at the back of the ship, Mark tossed Sugoroku a couple of towels and with the donations of a few of the smallest crew members, he soon was dry and changed into a still rather large set of navy issue pants and shirt. The smallest belt they'd managed to find even needed another 6 holes punched into it before it held the pants up on the boy reasonably. The final touch was after Sugoroku had finished rubbing the worst of the wetness from his hair and given it a quick shake. The way it seemed to poof up and out in all directions caused the men to laugh at him.

"Your hair do that all the time?" asked one of the men laughingly.

Sugoroku just gave an embarrassed shrug before he spoke in his only slightly halting English.

"I guess so. I never noticed before."

The man who had asked the question reached over, snatched a cap off of the face of a resting shipmate, and quickly planted it firmly on top of Sugoroku's head. The resting man nearly banged his head on the ceiling as he jumped up quickly.

"Hey, man! Whataya' doin' with my hat?"

"Calm down, Squawk. You're just donating to the kid. You got twenty more in your locker anyway. You can afford to miss one."

The man dubbed 'Squawk' looked over at Sugoroku curiously and then grinned.

"Hey, kid! You don't look half bad. That hat does look pretty good on you."

Sugoroku looked at him nervously, "Do you want it back?" he asked, thinking that perhaps the man would really prefer to make the choice of giving the hat up himself.

Squawk waved it off.

"Nah. It's all yours, pal. Only 'cause it looks so good on you though, otherwise…"

"What are you talkin' about, Squawk? He looks better in that hat than you ever did," joked another man, causing a round of laughter to fill the quarters.

Sugoroku just smiled.

"Okay guys, what say we give the kid the grand tour?" asked Mark aloud.

There was a chorus of 'yes's' from the men present which was then followed by the man who had snatched the cap off of Squawk, saying, "What a tour that'll be!"

He threw out his arms wide and with a dramatic air said, "Welcome, kid, aboard the USS Pemberton DD-549, Fletcher-Class Destroyer, also known affectionately as the 'Battling Bert.'"

"Or the ship that almost wasn't," added a voice from the rear.

The man nodded in agreement, "That too, but more on that later. Right now however, we, the company men know as Bert's Braves, represented by our tomahawk of war on your new head ware, have elected to give you the grand 5 minute tour of this rust bucket we've called home for the last 3 years. My name is Leonard Caloni, but you may call me 'Leo', and I will be your gracious host during this brief, but enlightening waste of time."

The men around laughed, and while Sugoroku missed some of the words said, he understood well enough the inflections given, and found himself laughing as well even though he was really looking forward to it.

With an excessive bow, Leo began, "This, dear Sugoroku, is the aft sleeping quarters where in the best and brightest of us take our rest from our weary and oft times boring work."

A passing crewman who heard Leo's oratory stopped and peered in.

"Best? I think you're a little confused, Leo. The best sleep up front to stay away from the goof plague you guys back here carry."

Leo smiled then countered, "The aft may be daft, but the front gets no c…"

"Leo!" interrupted Mark quickly.

"What?" asked Leo innocently.

"Sugoroku is here for a tour of the ship, not your foul, mind warping phrases," said Mark, more with amusement than any real admonishing.

"Aw, geez, man! I was just kidding."

"Kidding is fine, just a little cleaner, please."

Leo rolled his eyes, but it was in good natured jest.

"All right, all right, Mr. Pure Heart. Sheesh. Just tryin' to make it a little interesting for the kid."

"Don't worry, Leo. He'll find a clean tour just as interesting as a dirty one."

"It's not like he won't find out about most of it anyway eventually."

"Maybe, but later works well enough for now."

Leo laughed as he started leading Sugoroku and the group out of the quarters. He leaned in towards Sugoroku and said to him, "Your friend Mark there is really a great guy, but I gotta' tell ya', he can be a real stick in the mud."

"Stick in the mud?" asked Sugoroku, not understanding the phrase.

"Yeah. It means he takes the fun out of things. That's we like to call him 'Straight Arrow'. He never takes a toe out of line."

"Oh. Does everyone here have another name?"

"Most of us do, yeah. Some like Mark have a nickname that represents who they are in personality, some a particular trait and some like me, just a shorter version of our name."

"Then, what does 'Squawk' mean?"

Leo laughed again.

"Did you hear the way he yelled like a chicken when I took his hat?"

Sugoroku nodded with a smile. Now that he thought about it, it did sort of sound like an angry hen.

"Well, he always does that, so we call him 'Squawk' for it, though he likes to think its because he's on radio at night. We call the radio the 'squawk box' sometimes, so that's where he thinks we get it."

"And he doesn't know?"

"He knows. He just doesn't want to admit it," said Leo with a wink.

Leo was, in all actuality, a decent and funny guide and as per Mark's request, he even managed to keep it fairly clean, though admittedly, even if he had gone a little in the basement, Sugoroku wouldn't have known or understood. At least…not then.

Sugoroku's tour included everything from the main gunner's turrets to the torpedo room, the engine and steering rooms, the machinists area where Mark usually worked and the radio room. The only areas off limits on the tour were the officer's quarters and the bridge. But Sugoroku could hardly complain. What he had seen was marvelous enough.

The tour finished out in the mess hall where the men invited Sugoroku to have an early dinner with them, and though the food was not what he would have called normal, it smelled decent enough and so he opted to try some. It actually wasn't that bad.

It was while he was trying something called chocolate pudding that there was a sudden commotion as the men all around him suddenly stood at strict attention. Sugoroku looked from man to man curiously before deciding to peer around Mark.

What he wasn't expecting was someone to be peering back at him.

* * *

**Some end notes for you all:** It is common practice for the US Navy (and many other navies of the world) to give their ships nicknames. For the Pemberton it was "Battling Bert". These nicknames were sometimes used in codes relayed in ship to ship messages within a flotilla. The company men on board also collectively would nickname their group sometimes based on their ship's second name. Sugoroku's group thus were "Bert's Braves". It was also common practice to paint logos on the ship side or have it on banners, caps and patches and such, to represent their code call name. The first things I imagined were either a Native American Indian tomahawk or even a Native American Indian face. I chose a feathered tomahawk to avoid the over use of the stereotypical Indian face. I do try to be politically correct...at least some of the time. ; )

You know, I thought I made up that lovely little phrase that Leo says above..."The aft may be daft, but the front gets no c…"...ahem, well you get the point I'm sure. Funny thing is, I find out from a WWII Navy man that it isn't exactly original. Go figure. Though he did get a good laugh that someone (a girl of all people!) in this day and age would actually come up with it, especially without living on a destroyer for three or four years!

Next Chapter: Then Came Stage Two…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	15. Part 1, Chapter 15: Then Came Stage Two

**Updates** ... Wow, chapters 14 and 15 just flew by! I had them done in one day after four hours or so of typing. Boy my fingers hurt afterward! So did my eyes! Come to think of it, my brain was a little slow afterward too... "Zzzzzzzzzz..."

**PyroDragon2006** ... Glad you liked the last two chapters! And cyber cookies to ya' for checking out some WWII history. My grandfather was in the war too, but he served over in Europe, doing alot of sneaking around in Germany.

**BabyGatomon** ... Glad you enjoyed it! Don't worry, I'll be keeping it up for a long time to come!

And away we go!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**15. Then Came Stage Two …**

At the sight of the tall, solemn looking man standing before Mark, Sugoroku swallowed nervously. There was a serious air of authority about the man that was just as recognizable by the boy even without the numerous bars that adorned the man's shoulders. Easily hitting 6 foot three, he stood like a scarecrow, lean and lanky with short, military cropped, gray hair.

Light brown eyes, beneath a thick, slightly furrowed brow, looked at Sugoroku for a long moment before they suddenly softened.

"You must be Sugoroku Mutou," he said almost congenially.

Sugoroku nodded.

"Name's Admiral Chester Faraday, son. You've done quite a job guiding my men about the city. I have to thank you for that. Without our interpreter's help, these knuckle heads probably wouldn't have been able to find their way to the end of the block and back. You've made our time here a great deal easier and freed up Ensign Ito for more important work. Tell me, son, what made you do it? Help us that is?"

Sugoroku mulled the answer over quickly.

"I just wanted to learn about Americans."

"Well hell, son! You didn't have to go offering to work with us. You could have just asked a few questions. I'm sure the boys here would have been happy enough to give you the answers without us paying you."

"Mark said he needed help, and no one would, so I thought I could."

The admiral nodded.

"Too right. You did just that too, kid."

The man studied Sugoroku for a second, then with a contemplative look said, "I hear you're quite the chess player."

Sugoroku perked at the mentioning of the game as he nodded again.

"Well, not to toot my own horn or anything, but I was quite the player in my youth. Won more than a few tournaments in school and in the academy. Beat the Army's best three years in a row. Ol' Douglas hasn't forgiven me for it yet. Tell you what, son. It's been a while since I've had a decent game. You wouldn't mind sittin' down with me for one, would you? After you finish your dinner, that is."

Sugoroku gave a tentative smile and the admiral smiled in return.

"That's a boy. Have Mark bring you up to the officer's wardroom whenever you're done, son. I'll be ready."

Admiral Faraday turned to leave then paused as he looked back over his shoulder with a half grin.

"You other bozos," he said with rough affection, "as you were."

With that, he left.

The men all around Sugoroku let out their breaths and seemed to turn on the boy all at once.

"Holy cow! Can you believe that?"

"Never seen nothin' like it!'

"The admiral don't just talk to anybody that freely."

"You really going to play him?"

"Sure he will! This kid never backs down from a challenge. Right Sugoroku?"

The men chattered excitedly over the whole deal and Sugoroku couldn't even begin to keep up with everything that was being said almost completely at once. All he wanted to think about was the coming game with his new challenger. The way the men reacted to him, it was a sure bet it was going to be an interesting game.

Interesting…and short.

Fifty moves and Admiral Faraday was in checkmate.

He looked at the board for a minute, than Sugoroku. Again the board, and then Sugoroku.

He shook his head, then said, "Another one."

Sugoroku smiled and in fifteen minutes won again. This time in 41 moves.

Admiral Faraday looked at the boy hard, then again said, "Another one."

This one went to 57 moves and the admiral was again in checkmate.

Disbelief slapped across his features, the admiral stared at Sugoroku for a long time before he suddenly broke into a huge grin and exclaimed, "Good God, son! Where in the world did you learn to play like that?"

"I play a game we call Shoji. It is like chess, but harder. There are more pieces and they can be taken to serve your side if captured from the other player."

"So basically, you're saying that our chess is like a baby's game to you?"

Sugoroku shrugged slightly with a small, hesitant smile.

"Well I'll be. Horns waggled by a kid," muttered the man to himself.

Another terrific grin spread across his face before he leaned forward and said, "How would you like to play one more game?" with a sly look.

Sugoroku nodded quickly with a smile.

xxxxxxxxx

On board General Douglas MacArthur's flag ship, the U.S.S. Missouri, Ensign Bob Pritchitt quickly jotted the message down he had just received from one of the many other ships settled along the Tokyo docks. It was a short one and labeled for the General's eyes only. A four word message, cryptic even by naval standards, he could only guess as to its meaning. What he did know, was that when he knocked on the general's door, and interrupted his reading time, the man was not a happy camper.

He very quickily passed the message off and after being dismissed, began walking down the corridor and back to the radio room. He had only made it perhaps twenty feet though when he heard the general's unmistakable voice thunder in insane glee, "_Hell yes!_"

The ensign shook his head.

What the heck had 'Fancy one more game?' meant that had caused the general to shout like a banshee?

The ensign shook his head again as he took his seat before the radio again.

'Maybe,' he thought, 'It's better not to know.'

xxxxxxxxx

"_Hell's bells, man!_ Where in the mother loving world did you find this kid?"

Sugoroku sat quietly, a sweet smile on his face, trying for all the world to look as completely innocent as he possibly could. It was amazing how no one expected him to just run right over them. It was really quite fun and in a weird way, invigorating.

This General MacArthur man had walked into the room not but ten minutes ago, and had assumed that he was going to play Admiral Faraday.

Admiral Faraday had simply shook his head and motioned towards Sugoroku.

"You invited me to come over here to play chess with a kid?" asked the general.

"I never said I was going to play you in the message," replied the admiral, "Nervous of him?"

"Nervous? About playing a kid? You're clean out of your mind, Chester. Why, it wouldn't be fair."

"For you, or him?" questioned the admiral artfully.

The general's face had flustered then at the remark.

"You think he's good enough to play me?"

"Nope."

"Well, then, why the heck…"

"I think he's good enough to wipe the floor with you."

The general had looked at Sugoroku and then Admiral Faraday.

"All right, Chester. You got yourself a game."

The general then sat down across from Sugoroku and looked hard at the boy.

"You speak English, son?"

"Yes sir."

"Good. Then let's play."

And so it happened that ten minutes later, the game was over, and a four star general sat in near shock.

"To answer your question, Doug, I didn't. He found us. A couple of my boys made friends with him a while back and discovered his talent. He volunteered to help guide us around the city and he's been a fixture ever since. If you want a rematch with em', just ask. He never passes up a challenge to play."

"Heck no! I don't want a rematch! Letting you see me get beat by him once is enough torture for a night. Of course with you, that'll be the torture for the next twenty years."

Admiral Faraday grinned, "I could shorten that dramatically."

The general flicked an eyebrow up in wary consternation. He thought for a moment before saying, "Two days, right?"

Faraday nodded.

"Think it's a good idea?" asked MacArthur.

"You think it's not?"

MacArthur weighed it over in his mind.

"Can't waste it, that's for sure."

"Definitely wouldn't want to do that."

The general took a deep sigh.

"I'll see what I can do. In the mean time, best to find out if he'd even want to."

Faraday stood as the general did.

"Will do, Doug," he stated as he shook the man's hand. "And thanks."

"Yeah, well. Just remember your part of the deal."

"Not a problem."

General MacArthur turned and looked at the still smiling Sugoroku in serious admiration. If Sugoroku had known then what a rare thing that look was, he would have burned it into his memory a little more solidly.

"You've got a hell of a talent, kid."

"Thank you, sir."

The general nodded and with that, left.

Admiral Faraday turned and looking at Sugoroku, smiled.

"Congratulations son. You just won yourself a first class ticket to the US of A."

* * *

I love this chapter! With the exception of what I've written ahead of time about how Sugoroku meets his wife, this is my personal favorite so far! I've been dieing to use the "Hell's bells" bit since like...forever, lol. And before anyone asks...as a matter of clarification... the United States Navy did bring back a nice little number of Japanese 'immigrants' after the war. I am so stooked right now! More to come!

**POP QUIZ!** Can anyone guess who I modeled Admiral Chester Faraday after?

Hint #1... A tall, white, cartoon character with a little bit of brown, red and yellow.

Hint #2... Think Southerner.

Hint #3... Can usually be found with a chicken hawk.

Now if hint number three didn't give it away, then I am definately either too old...or I've been watching too much Cartoon Network lately, lol.

Next Chapter: Stage Three and Its Finale …

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	16. Part 1, Chapter 16: Stage Three and Its ...

**Updates** ... And the answer is... Foghorn Leghorn! He was that goofy southern accented rooster that always made fun of that hound dog and was constantly being chased after for dinner by that Henry Chickenhawk. Everytime I typed Admiral Chester Faraday, all I could see was that goofy rooster. I even started hearing his voice when I was coming up with the admiral's lines.

**PyroDragon2006** ... You were on the right track with Looney Tunes and chicken. I thank you immensly for keeping up with my continueing story and look forward to updates on your's as well!

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Ohhh, a growing Solomon/Sugoroku fan! LOL. I am very pleased you're liking my efforts and please don't feel stupid. After reading some of your fics, that term definately does NOT apply. After all, anyone who uses the word 'emulate' in a review for my story has got to have a whole mountain of very intelligent marbles in their head! PS all! Check out SD's fic "**YuGiOh In Production: Memos of the Cast**". I'm so loving it. Quick synopsis...the cast are sending memos back and forth from their secondary jobs in production. Atem is Head of Production (like the obsessive person he is), Téa Gardner is Head of Friendship Maintenance (uh duh lol), Seto Kaiba is Head of Technology Department (of course!)... and thats just the tip of it! It all just works so well! Even Solomon/Sugoroku gets paper time!

**Ciardra** ... Glad you're excited about Sugoroku going to America. He just has such an American style and outlook I had to bring it in. Besides, he's the world traveler. It only stands to reason he would get there sooner or later. I just went there sooner. : ) And don't worry about not getting the cartoon quiz. I'm just an old cartoon fan, hence my love for Speed Racer, Mysterious Cities of Gold, StarBlazers, Battle of the Planets, Super Friends and the old Voltron (does anyone else even know of these?). All very awesome in my book!

**BabyGatomon** ... Hells Bells! Someone likes that phrase besides me? Totally awesome! Very pleased you thought the chapter was good. Heres another one for ya'.

**Snow Weaver** ... Welcome back and good to see you again! Aplus on the cartoon quiz. It is Foghorn Leghorn! Thrilled you liked the chapter too. : )

I find it amazing that everyone automatically expected Sugoroku to say 'yes' and go to America! He never did give an answer in the last chapter. He just heard he had the offer. Well of course, you're all right. But now you get to read how his answer is cemented. Hey Snow Weaver! Just for you, this chapter is rated 'STW' for 'Slight Tissue Warning!' LOL.

And now its full steam ahead!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**16. Stage Three and Its Finale …**

There was no one in all the world who could have been that dizzy in the head over it. He was absolutely sure of it. But that was the only thing he was sure of just then.

As he half floated home a little later in the slowly darkening evening, still in the borrowed uniform, Sugoroku could not for the life of him ever recall a moment such as this. Absolute elation had filled him. He was being given a chance to go some place he had only dreamed about.

Him!

Sugoroku Mutou!

Invited to go to America!

The possibilities of life in America before him were absolutely endless! He would get to see places and things he had never known existed! He would get to experience things he never knew a person could know! He would get to try life in what would be for him, a totally different world! Best of all, he was going to get to play chess with people that had no clue how well he could play! Though that also meant that he had no idea how well they could play either. But what difference was that? If they were good, then he would finally have a challenge worth seriously playing for a change.

Of course, that was even if he decided to go.

Sugoroku came to a stop as he knitted his dark brows in worry.

He felt quite sure he wanted to go, but what about his mother and father? What about life here? Everything he knew was here in Tokyo, Japan. The things that were to him a familiar daily sight, might well never be seen in America. No wood and paper houses. No silk kimonos. Did Americans even eat raw fish? It was exciting to think about what he would be able to discover, but it was scary too.

And what would his mother and father even think of it? Would they even let him go? His mother would give him his choice he felt sure, but his father… That was a whole different thing right there.

That was why he had not immediately agreed to it. He had to talk to his parents first. But was it really to get their permission first, or was simply just to let them know and get their thoughts?

Remembering where it was he had been heading, Sugoroku started forward again, but when he looked up, he chanced a sight that he had never before seen anything like.

About half a block up from where he was walking, he could see his own father standing with two other men by a light. Though he could not hear what was being said, it was evident by their hand gestures that they seemed to be having an argument. Sugoroku continued to walk towards them, but when his father was knocked back and down onto the ground by one of the men, the boy was immediately shocked and then angry. Differences though they may have, it was still his father these men were threatening, and Sugoroku would not stand for it.

After putting his roll of semi dry clothes against his chest, he started running towards the men as fast as he could. Ducking his head and rolling his shoulder forward, he came in and rammed the man that had knocked his father down, square in the stomach. If this had been an average size American man, the person would have perhaps only staggered back a few feet or so. Fortunately for him, the men were just as Japanese as he, and being only about 5'4, the man fell back and into his companion, both ending up on the ground.

Sugoroku recovered quickly to stand before his father as he dropped his bundle of clothes. Every inch of him was ready to do what ever he had to in order to protect his father. No one could dare go after someone from his family and get away with it.

"Sugoroku! No!"

The boy looked back at his father as the man continued.

"Get back. This is not your business."

Unimaginable surprise filled Sugoroku's eyes.

"What?" he asked.

"This is not your fight Sugoroku. Go home."

"Not my fight? You're my father. Why would it not be my fight when they come after you?"

"I did not ask for your help Sugoroku. Now go."

Confusion was now the element at play and Sugoroku could not begin to understand what his father meant.

The two men had gotten off the ground and taking a look at Sugoroku standing there in a uniform, they looked at each other.

"He is with the Americans!" said one.

"Then this isn't our night. Lets go," replied the other, before the two quickly made themselves scarce.

Osamu stood and watched as the men left. He then turned and looked at Sugoroku hard.

"I did not ask for your help!"

"Does that matter? They're gone. Now we can go home."

"They are gone because of that uniform! It should have been my fight to see through, not yours or the Americans."

"I was trying to help you."

"I didn't want your help, Sugoroku! Do you not understand?"

"But…"

"No! It does not matter that they are gone! Whether you help or the Americans help, life will still go on as it always does. They were facing me, not you! They were fighting me, not the Americans! It was my right to stand before them at their challenge and defend myself!"

Sugoroku was incredulous. His father had to be insane. Surely there was no other way explain the man's unappreciative attitude.

"Your right? There were two of them! They were going to hurt you. I couldn't let them do that to you!" he shot back hotly.

"It doesn't matter what they were or were not going to do. I did not need your help! Next time, do not stick yourself in matters that do not concern you."

"You are my father. You are a matter that does concern me."

"Yes, I am your father. A fact you sometimes so casually seem to dismiss. But more than that, I am your elder. I stand above you in wisdom and age. You have no right to take a decision from me."

"I didn't take anything away from you!" argued Sugoroku.

His youthful temper up, he took no notice as the exchange grew louder, their voices echoing along the dark street.

"They were going to hurt you…"

"I do not need you to defend me! It is I who should be defending you! I should be supporting you and setting you up to find your place in our world! I should be the one to guide you, not the other way around!"

"But why can I not…"

"You have taken my honor as the head of our household and stomped it to the ground over and over again!"

"No! I only tried to…"

"You go against my rules at every turn!"

"That's not true!"

"A father's son should not so soon be making the decisions for him!"

"But I was just…"

"I have been living and surviving by my decisions and choices for over forty years, and have never been questioned. I have been taking care of myself and your mother long before you were born!"

"If you would just…"

"Sugoroku, I have not, do not, or will I ever, need your help!"

Silence followed as the two stared each other down, the anger a corporeal presence between them. Both stood with curled fists and the in the dim light of the street, it was like looking at a mirror image except for the distinction in height and hair.

There was nothing more to say.

The difference between the ideals of the old and the ideals of the young, had reached the end of its coexistence, and neither would yield. Like a dry reed that will not bend before a gale wind, their thin acceptance of the other's thoughts had reached its end and so snapped, unable to handle anymore of the pressure.

With a final blistering stare, Osamu stood straight before giving a stiff half bow, before turning and walking away.

A bow thus given was not at this moment anything close to being a show of respect. It was a sign of his thoughts as to his son. That in fact, he was just another person on the street. Just another face. Nothing more.

Sugoroku stood shaking in outraged resentment for several long moments, unable to even think clearly just then. Suddenly, without warning, the anger gave way and he turned with a yell as he struck his foot out at a bucket that sat at the corner of a house behind him. The innocent bucket clattered down the street, breaking into several pieces, but Sugoroku didn't notice. He was too busy hitting a small potted plant off of a short table. The table quickly followed suit. Then, finding nothing else loose to send flying, he started kicking at an old fence. Again and again he attacked the fence with his feet, even managing to pop one of the boards half off.

Another minute later, his physical anger finally abated, he came to slow stop. He turned and leaned against the stalwart fence, slowly letting himself slip down it, until he was sitting on the damp ground, and as he breathed heavily from a combination of exertion and residual anger, he looked up at the sky a second before the clouds opened up with a chilly rain.

Sugoroku squinted against the pellets that smacked at his face.

Once again, his father had made the decision for him even if the man did not realize it.

Had Osamu approached the incident with understanding and an open mind, Sugoroku's rescue of him could have set a firm bond of appreciation and amity between the two. One that can only come through the chance to stand side by side with another to battle what is wrong or treacherous. A bond like that could have had the potential to help the boy see a new side to the older man, one which might have fostered an earned admiration. That kind of respect could have even had the power to keep Sugoroku in Tokyo, perhaps even encourage him to take greater care to follow his father's advice.

But instead, the steadily growing rift between the two had been cemented by this event, and in effect, Osamu had indeed made the decision for Sugoroku.

He knew now, with no more doubt, what he was going to do next.

Sitting in the rain, alone and tired, the young man wondered absently if he would be able to see any of the same stars in the US that he had for so long seen here.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Parting of Ways…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	17. Part 1, Chapter 17: The Parting of Ways

**Updates** ... here's another installment in Sugoroku's Story for you all. Yes...its a little earlier than normal, but I have a three day dog show to go to over the weekend and won't be home to get this up at its traditional time.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... You thought it was brilliant? Awesome! I totally agree with you. Sugoroku is just to unique to be stuck in the common thought processes of the average Japanese man no matter what time he was born into. Glad you're getting excited along with him, 'cause there's lots more to come!

**PyroDragon2006** ... I'm thrilled you thought it was a well written chapter. I honestly wasn't planning on getting back to any sort of realization on Osamu's part, but now that you mention it...I think I will have to. Though it will be in a round about sort of way that may take a bit to get to.

**BabyGatomon** ... Its amazing what can happen when one isn't expecting it. That was sort of the case with Sugoroku and his father. Sugoroku was so busy doing his own thing he couldn't see it any way but his until it was too late. So very pleased to see you keeping up with Sugoroku!

And away we go!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 1: Japan**

**17. The Parting of Ways …**

What is innocence really?

Is it a single thought or lone idea? Or is it a compilation of extended beliefs and teachings that by our lack of awareness of it, lets us blissfully slide by those things that we are not ready to see or understand? Do we simply, on some subconscious level, trust that it is real, but cannot view it in the light of our wakefulness?

What is innocence?

Perhaps it is not the question of 'what' that is most important.

Consider that perhaps it is more the way in which it is lost.

For some it is taught, for others read, many see it, others are forced to it… For some it is the loss of a closely held personal belief, others a personal feeling or thought, and there are those that only equate it to a physical awareness.

The way and the reasons are as endlessly varied as people themselves, but the fact is that the person that remains when it is lost, can be irrevocably changed for life.

Self discovery of a long forcibly denied truth was Sugoroku's, and the person that was left behind was something…someone…just a bit cynical, a bit less fresh faced to the world... A bit older in thought and deed.

The innocence of possibility, that he could truly bond to his father, was gone. The idea now set, the hope now gone, Sugoroku gave up on that tie.

He returned home later that night, after his parents had already retired, and as he looked about the little house, he felt nothing more than a soft pang of regret for his mother. He would miss her of course. Very much.

She had always understood. She had always been open minded. Always kind, always soft spoken, and even a little wise beyond common thought. She had always been there for him as best as she could to help and support him. Had she been raised in another more progressive era, she might have even risked anger with Osamu by arguing with him on Sugoroku's behalf.

But this was were she lived and Sugoroku understood.

He did not tell her he was leaving until the following evening, after he had returned from the ship, and was busy putting his few things into a small duffel he had been issued to hold his belongings. His mother stared at the satchel in open surprise as Sugoroku paused in his packing.

He looked at her quietly before saying, "They have invited me to go to America with them."

Sayuri gave a slow nod as she remained silent.

"They're leaving tomorrow, early."

The woman turned her eyes down for a moment, then looked back up. It struck Sugoroku just then, how much he had failed to notice about her in the last few years. She was certainly not the woman he remembered from his childhood.

Her once raven black hair had almost completely turned a dark gray and the once smooth, pale face, had become lined with age and hardship. Her small light frame, suddenly seemed even lighter and smaller then he had ever thought, and though she still stood with a straight backed dignity, her shoulders had at some point come to sit just a bit forward. Her movements and footsteps, always slow, measured and graceful, had slowed down even more, and it was there that the young man wondered how he could have missed noticing this sooner. But he chanced a look at her eyes, and then he understood.

Purple eyes so dark they mirrored the night sky, they seemed to glow with a steady, unending shine at him. There was a solid sense to them that gave him the impression, that though there was a face of quiet contemplative understanding before him, there was a soul of strength and courage that ran just beneath. These eyes had not changed in the least for as long as he could remember and it was this that had kept him from seeing the other changes.

Whenever he had looked at her, he always looked at her eyes.

Whenever she stood before him, her eyes were the first thing he greeted.

Their clear and steady brilliance had always been what defined her to him, and what he thought of her as, was something never changing…undying.

But she had changed and yes, would someday die. That truth was clear now that the idea of not being here had taken root firmly in his mind. This was part of his regret from the following night. Leaving her behind… Not knowing how she would be in the coming years… It was almost enough to make him change his mind.

Sayuri put a small hand over his as she again nodded.

"You know what you will do there?"

"I will be helping to build relations between the Americans and our country. They will be taking me to special chess contests to show that we are not so different."

"And after?"

Sugoroku looked at his bag.

"I am not sure. But I will find it out there. What I will do, who I will become… It is out there, not here. That's why I want to go with them."

His mother sighed softly.

"I know. I have always known. You were born different from the rest of us for a reason Sugoroku. We may not understand it in this time, or even the next, but there is purpose, and I know that you will find it. You were born to go where others cannot. Born to do what others will not. To succeed at what others know as only failure. I only wish I could see you do those things myself."

Sugoroku looked at his mother.

"I will write you."

She smiled.

"I would like that."

They were silent for a moment before she gave his hand a quick pat and then left, but only minutes later she returned with a small box. She held it out to him.

"For you," she said simply.

Sugoroku took it hesitantly and opened it, to find a sizable pile of bills and coins within.

He looked at her in surprise.

"Mother! This is…"

She nodded.

"The money you have given me since you started working with the Americans."

"I cannot take this! I gave it to you to use."

"Yes, but you will need it more now that you are going to start a new life of your own."

She gave a secretive smile then and added, "Do not worry. I have kept a little aside for emergencies. Take that and exchange it for their money before you leave, so you will have it to use in America."

Sugoroku sighed, but smiled anyway as he closed the lid on the box.

"Alright. But I look at this as a loan and I will pay it back."

Sayuri gazed a second longer at her son before stepping forward and hugging him soundly.

"Be careful Sugoroku. Try hard and do well. I will keep you in my thoughts and I will always love you."

Sugoroku hugged her in return.

&&&

The next morning, when the USS Pemberton began to slowly pull away, Sugoroku stood on the forward deck, looking out across the bay towards the ocean. He was looking forward, his eyes on the future. His past was slowly moving behind him and that was where he intended to keep it.

"Hey, Sugoroku. There's someone standing by the dock," said Mark quietly.

Sugoroku looked back at Mark's indicated spot and stared. Though he could no longer see the features clearly, he knew by the dark blue, ceremonial kimono who it was. He had been to too many prayer services, and gone on too many yearly treks back to the Shinto Shrines where his ancestors had lived, to not know.

He was momentarily filled again with that feeling of regret as he acknowledged that there was no way to know if he would ever see them again. But one never knew and so he put his hand up and waved.

A small hand was put out by the figure in return and held high for many long moments, and Sugoroku stood and continued to watch until the form was nothing more than a dot on the shrinking docks.

"Goodbye," he said softly under his breath one last time before looking forward again.

Amending his earlier thoughts of the past, his mother, he conceded, was the only thing he would look back at.

The only thing worth looking back to.

* * *

Thus ends Part 1, Japan ... or what I like to call "The Beginnings Arc", lol.

Next week: Part 2, Chapter 18. The Journey Begins...

I know, short chapter for the last one in the Part 1. I just had to tie in that last string with his mother before he takes off. But don't worry. You will find that the chapters will be longer from this point on and as a consequence, there may be an occasion where it may be a little more than a week before a new chapter gets up. I have lots of research to go through to time his appearances just right, but I truely hope that if you hang in there with me, it will be worth it to you.

I will admit agonizing over whether I should start from 1 for each arc of Sugoroku's story or not. In the end I decided to just keep the continuity of the chapter numbers since will continue to number them consequtively unless I make each arc a seperate story entry. Sure I could have submitted some 5 different arcs as individual stories, but I didn't want to confuse myself. ; )

As usual, I thank all of you for trudging through with me in these early years and I warn you now...if you thought Sugoroku was different as a kid, all I can say is... "you ain't seen nothin' yet!"

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )

* * *

**Special segment... **The following is an excerpt from a future chapter I've been playing around with when I've been a good authoress and reached my personal limit for the more current chapters of the story. Its my way of appologizing for such a short ending to Part 1 and to further reiterate that Sugoroku's Story will be coming for a long time!

**The Price of Pride…**

'How does one do it,' he wondered as he looked out the window of the small bedroom. 'How can a person truly say enough is enough after so many years of it. 10 years… Good god! Has it really been that long? I could go, but… What if he is the same? What if he can't look at me as anything more than a child still? Then what reason would there have been for me going back? To see her certainly would be reason enough, but him? What if he still will not accept that I am not like him and I will never be?'

The little voice inside his head answered, _'Is it really that important anymore? You know you are different. You live by it. What sway can he hold over you with all you have seen and done and have yet to do?'_

Sugoroku sighed as he looked down at the letter once more.

'Surprisingly, a lot,' he admitted.

The letter had come only hours ago.

From Japan.

From his mother.

Back dated by almost two months, it had taken time to reach him because of rerouting. He had moved since his last letter to his mother, twice actually, and it was only because of Ritchie's misplaced bag that they would have gotten the letter at all. The post had managed to get the letter as far as Morroco, but there it had stalled when there was no further knowledge of where he had gone next. Only Ritchie calling to the last hotel in his search for his bag, had found the letter waiting as well and so here it was a week later, sent with the bag.

It was a surprisingly short letter, but its words needed no long dramatization. He was more than fully aware of what it meant to those most concerned.

'Dearest Sugoroku,

I send this letter in the hopes that it reaches you in good time. To allay any fears, I say first that I am very well. These last several months have been mild, and for me, it is a blessing as it eases the aches of my years and makes living pleasant enough.

Most sadly however, your father is not well. He is very ill Sugoroku. Despite the good weather, he has become bed fast and could not survive but for my help. The doctors, though they say they have tried what they can, have not given him much time left. Perhaps a few months at best. But that is only their guess. Even they are not sure.

I know that your parting with your father was not under the best of circumstances, but I would hope that you would not hold it against your father or yourself, and would see your way to coming home even if only for a few days to visit him before he is gone from us.

Please, Sugoroku. I have asked nothing of you before. But for those last moments of his life, I ask you to return if only to say goodbye properly.

With all of my love,

Sayuri'

Two months old.

Would it already be too late even if he did return?

Did it matter?

Sugoroku looked out the window again.

No, it did not.

* * *


	18. Part 2, Chapter 18: The Journey Begins

**Updates** ... Holy Cow! We made it to Part 2! Is this sweet or what! As I stated at the end of Part 1, the chapters will be getting a bit longer. I'll try not to let that stop me from keeping my updates a weekly thing, but if it should happen once in a while, just bare with me. I do have a life outside of the computer screen.

WHAT?

You didn't think I did? Okay, I understand how you could make that mistake. Heck, I make that mistake too sometimes! I actually have a friend named Hugo that I accidentaly called Sugo a week ago! Is that wrong or what? Thankfully he just laughed it off. Probably thinks I'm nuts now though. ; )

Oddly enough, the site didn't e-mail announce when I first put this up almost 5 days ago. I still don't know what was up with that. Anyway, I reposted it. Did it work this time?

**PyroDragon2006** ... LOL, trouble works just as well. I'm thrilled you thought so much of that last chapter. I do occasionally like to get a little soft once in a while. As for the thought behind it...well, what can I say? Just think... a mother - her only child leaving - far away ...what else could I come up with?

**Ciardra** ... Glad you enjoyed the fluffiness. It likes to come sneaking out once in a while even with my suppression attempts, lol.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... I like thinking deep thoughts too every so often. Makes me feel slightly intelligent, lol. As for the future...well...you'll just have to keep reading and see. He he he, aren't I the evil one with the teaser?

**LadyAlthea** ... Changing names are we? I do like it though. Glad you enjoyed that last offering even if it was a little burnt in the center and soggy on the edges, lol.

All aboard everyone! Next stop... America! Well... eventually anyway, lol.

* * *

Trixie21

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**18. The Journey Begins…**

Sugoroku moaned aloud as he lay on his bunk, curled tightly into a fetal ball. His head pounded like a drum, his stomach was twisted in knots so tight he could barely breath without throwing up, and every sound he heard seemed to lance through him like a thousand knives.

No, Sugoroku was not experiencing a hangover.

He was seasick.

Horribly so. What was worse was that it was going onto its fourth day.

They had warned him of course, Mark and the others. But that was after the ship had already pulled out.

"Don't worry about it kid," Leo had said cheerfully, "Just like everything else, it passes eventually."

The young man groaned. Sure it would. But in heaven's name when? He hadn't eaten since it hit, hadn't been able to stand straight, couldn't even sleep… All he could do was lay with his pillow clutched to his chest as the ocean waves continued to rock the boat, unsympathetic towards a land raised Japanese kid.

The first day on board hadn't been too bad. He'd been too excited and busy investigating the Pemberton to notice anything anyway. But the morning of day two hit him like a ton of bricks. He'd tried to open his eyes, and was practically blinded from the sensitivity his sickness had created. He knew then, that he didn't want to get out of that bed until the boat had reached America, but he needed just then to go to the bathroom. Very much so.

Getting out of his bunk had been torturous, and as he staggered towards the head(1), he'd fallen four times and bumped into poles and beams at least 10. What a wonderful thing that had been. He was sick and bruised by the time he made it in, and of course once there before the toilet, he wasn't sure which action his body wanted to undertake first.

He'd managed to take care of the normal procedure first, but he'd barely finished before the second action took over and he threw up continuously for almost five minutes. After the first three though, it was dry heaves ever since, and after three days of it, he was sore and exhausted.

So there he lay in misery. Sicker than he'd ever been in his life, and wondering if he was even going to make it to America.

"Hey Sugoroku," called Mark quietly, "How ya' feelin' guy?"

Sugoroku swallowed down a fresh wave of nausea before mumbling, "If I had known what it was going to be like, I'm not sure I would have come."

Mark chuckled.

"Sorry it couldn't be easier on you, but it'll be worth it when its over. You'll see."

Sugoroku could only moan a half reply before burping slightly with a shiver.

"This is so…so…"

He fumbled through his mixed thoughts.

"Terrible?" suggested Mark to help Sugoroku out with his words.

The young man shook his head very slowly.

"Worse."

"Well, I thought this might help."

Sugoroku peeked one eye open only slightly at Mark's offered hand to see a small white tablet.

"What is it?"

"Aspirin. Just pop it in, take a drink and hope it helps."

Sugoroku shifted on his bunk, carefully making every movement as slow as humanly possible to keep his dizziness from taking over again. He leaned on one arm as his other hand took the aspirin, stuck it in his mouth and took hold of a small porcelain cup. He sniffed the light brown, tepid brew and looked at Mark.

"Ginger tea," the American answered, "Its supposed to help the nausea."

Fighting to keep himself conscious long enough to finish, he took a long sip and swallowed with a grimace at the bitter taste. He couldn't even bring himself to finish it. As soon as Mark had taken back the cup, Sugoroku dropped back down to assume his motionless state once more and for next three hours, a rabid assortment of dreams assailed the young mind in a virulent swirl of images and sounds.

xxxxxxxxx

Do humans dream in color?

The experts of the time assured us, no. They told us that when our day was done and we relieved the stresses of that day through the random wanderings of the subconscious, our mind presented these conjured visions in black, white and shades of gray. The brain, so it seemed to them, only shut certain portions down and chief among those was a small section that utilized the eyes to let one recognize colors. The brain made conclusions based on the personal knowledge of the item seen and when one awoke, they would essentially 'colorize' it the same way in which an old black and white Humphrey Bogart movie is colorized in a studio. If one knew the grass should be green within the dream, the mind makes one believe it already was. If one were to be completely color blind to all colors except black, white and grays, they of course would never 'colorize' their dreams once awake since all they would have to associate to them would be the colors that they know.

The same theory applied to the application of words within the dream state.

Scientists said that when we slept, that portion of the brain which allows one to register known writing and comprehend it, sleeps as well and that within dreams we could not therefore read any letters or words one may chanced to have seen. The mind again makes the assumptions regarding the words so that in essence, one thinks they have seen the word written clearly. If that person were to dream of a bank, and that mind knows they are dreaming of said establishment, that mind automatically assumes that the word 'Bank' is written on the sign outside of the building. However, if one were to have seen an example of Arabic writing, but not understand it as a language - that is, not know how to read it - one could dream of it quite clearly because it would be stored as an image rather than an expression of speech.

Finally, more amazing than that which has already been stated to have been believed for that time, was the theory that a person could not dream of places or events that could not in some way be related to what a person had read, seen or heard of in some way. To say it in a very basic analogous form, one could not dream of Mt. Rushmore if they have never heard of its existence or even a minor description. One could not theoretically dream of a certain person with a red hair, blue eyes and a wide forehead if they had never seen such features before. If one were to have seen those very features, even if on separate faces, the brain could then, to some degree, combine those characteristics and thus produce such a person in that sub conscious state. But minus even one of those pieces, and the face would never bear it until the dreamer finally viewed it while in a conscious state.

Even if he had known of these scientists and their 'theories', Sugoroku's opinion would have differed dramatically after those last three hours.

He would have happily sworn that his dreams were toned in the richest of reds and yellows, oranges and blues, even purples and greens. He would most assuredly have argued most unrelentingly, that he had read every Japanese character and English letter he saw as clearly as if he were reading a school book. As for the buildings…well…there could be little to say about some of them except that Sugoroku was absolutely positive he had never before seen anything like them.

To be fair though, within his cavalcade of unconscious thought, he did see a multitude of scenes that he knew as assuredly as he knew his own name. He saw his own home and the city of Tokyo. He saw massive volcanoes not unlike Japan's own Mt Fuji. He saw great hordes of people moving like rivers through canyons of concrete and steel. Mixed within he saw too, things that he could not so easily place, but had heard of to some degree. There were endless stretches of beaches that never met water, huge plains of ice and snow concealed in the gray darkness of a half night and giant statues of men whose chiseled might was only exceeded by the sense of self worth emanating from them.

Through out many of these places and scenes there appeared disaster and joy, breathtaking beauty and horrific ugliness to blind the eyes. Violent storms swept away every vestige of life, while countless seasons came and went seconds. Money and jewels rained down from the heavens and ribbons of pure light cut through the whole of the earth to shine through into the space beyond. Animals, the mix and like of which he'd never even dared think of even in the most childish of nightmares, roamed throughout these myriad domains and moments, and while some ran beside him in wild joyous abandon at his presence, others raged at his heels infuriated by their failure to catch and devour him and rid their lands of the stain of his existence.

These images and colors swirled and mingled, and in a play made with no earthly sense of rational, it went on for what seemed like an endless eternity, traveling back and forth through the marvel of one young man's imagination…

xxxxxxxxx

Several hours later, Sugoroku woke up from his short nap and blinked in confusion. Something was suddenly different and after only a brief moment, it came to him. His head no longer hurt. He'd actually been able to have a straight thought for the first time in four days!

He rolled onto his back slowly and looking up at the ceiling above his head, he found that it no longer make him sick to do so. His eyes and ears seemed to be functioning almost normally again too.

'I hope this means its over,' he thought grimly, before daring more movement and sitting up.

Nothing happened.

'Well, that can only be a good thing.'

He slowly climbed off the bunk and stood still for a moment as he kept a tight grip on the bed next to him. There was a little warning thump in the front of his head, but it was gone in another moment. So it seemed that he was actually past the sickness finally and would probably be able to handle things, as long as he took his time and didn't over due it. Feeling much better just for that, Sugoroku made his way slowly to the mess and once there, saw Mark and a few others gathered at their normal table. He joined them and slid onto the bench seat before setting his head down on his arms to rest for a moment, his head aching slightly.

Okay, so he wasn't completely over it yet.

"Hey! Look who it is guys! How ya' feelin' Sugoroku?" asked Leo in his excessively cheerful manner.

"Not as bad as before."

"Well, it's a start," said Mark with a smile.

"See! We told you it wouldn't last forever," added Leo.

"It certainly felt like it was going to."

Leo grinned.

"Give it another couple of days kid and you'll barely remember it."

Sugoroku wasn't sure he believed that one. He did after all, have a pretty good memory.

"Do you feel up to eating anything yet?"

"Maybe a little bread and water."

Mark nodded as one of the men went to the galley to get the food for Sugoroku.

"Good idea to keep it light. Just in case."

Just then, there came a loud yell from the other side of the room.

"Man! I cannot believe I lost again!"

"Geez Mick. You're really bad at this."

"I am not! Back home you should see me. I never lose."

"Yeah? Well you're not home right now Mick. So get over it and pay up."

"This stinks. I am out of here."

The aforementioned Mick stalked past the table where Sugoroku and his friends sat, but Mark stopped him.

"Everything okay Mick?"

"Just peachy," replied the man sarcastically, "If you count the fact that I owe Richter my last 4 packs of smokes as a good thing."

Mark sat quietly for a moment as Mick walked off. When he turned to look at his friends, he found Sugoroku looking at the retreating man's back intensely, his pale lavender eyes shining brightly.

"Uh oh…" the older man said softly.

Even as sick and as tired as he still was, Sugoroku had not missed the inference that a game had been played, and someone had lost. The young man stood slowly before heading over to the table where Mick had just come from, and standing several feet back, he watched carefully.

The three men seated there were not playing chess. They were playing a card game.

A man with rangy brown hair was flicking cards out to the other two men, as well as himself, and when he was done, he picked up the cards before him and started arranging them.

"What do you want kid?" he suddenly asked, not looking up from his cards. His tone, while not unfriendly, was not exactly welcoming, and for some reason, Sugoroku felt the hair at the back of neck stand in mild agitation at the man. There was definitely something about him he did not care for.

"I was just watching," answered Sugoroku guardedly.

The man's eyes flicked up briefly at him.

"You're that chess genius, right?"

Genius was a new word and not understanding it, Sugoroku simply replied, "I do play chess."

"Hear you never lose."

Sugoroku nodded.

"Yes," he stated.

The man tossed some cards on the table, as did the other two, and after dealing new cards, the man said, "Think you could beat me at Poker?"

"Once I know the game."

Sugoroku smiled almost smugly as the man looked up quickly. They way the man studied Sugoroku was intended to make the young man nervous, but it had no such effect on him what so ever. It did in fact make him not only dislike the man more, but Sugoroku suddenly had the strange, strong need to win against him.

There was a long silence.

"I play. I don't teach. Go get someone to show you how to play first, then come back and see me. Then we'll play a hand or two."

From that moment, Sugoroku was shut out of the man's notice completely, and he felt it. He walked back to the other table and sat in deep thought, the men around him staring.

"Mark, can you teach me this Poker?" he asked after a bit.

Mark looked a little uncomfortable at the question.

"Any one of us could teach you Sugoroku. But you'll need to know a whole lot more then just how to play, it if you're going to challenge Richter."

"Then you will show me?"

Mark looked at the others, most of whom nodded at him.

"Alright we can teach you how to play."

And so, Sugoroku's education in Poker began.

Poker is a card game in which an average of four to six players try to out play each other by attaining the highest cards in their hand for each game. There are varied ways to play, but in the basic five-card draw form, the players each begin by offering an ante or 'token bet' for the right to be included in the game and ensure that someone will always win something on each hand.

Once all the players have put up their ante, the dealer deals the cards face down around the table, starting at the player to his left and continuing clockwise. The dealer, if he's playing, always deals to himself last. The dealer deals everyone their first card, then goes back around the circle to deal the second, and so on. As soon as everyone has five cards, the remainder of the deck is placed in the middle of the table, and play begins.

Each player looks at his or her cards, and then the first player places a bet. While there are several ways of deciding who bets first, usually the player directly to the left of the dealer will make the first bet. Then on the next hand, the person to his left will bet first, and so on around the table for each new hand.

Here, players will begin the first round of betting. The player who bets first has two choices. They may "open" the pot with the first bet, or "check". When a player checks, it means that the person doesn't want to open the betting, but doesn't want to quit either. This basically means "I'm not going to open the betting, but I'll stick around and see what happens."

Everyone betting after the first player, has three choices. The first choice is to "see" or match another player's bet. The next choice is to "raise" the bet. When one "raises" the bet, they must first "see" the previous bet, and then increase it. The last choice is to "fold" or "give up" for that hand, by placing the cards face down on the table. This option is used when a player feels their hand is too weak to compete. They are cutting their loses there rather than stay in and lose more against stronger hands.

From here, all the players who haven't folded, are allowed to get rid of the cards they don't want and take some new cards. A player is permitted to get rid of up to 3 unwanted cards and receive up to 3 new ones from the deck provided the player always has 5 cards in total. No one may see what anyone else has discarded (threw away) or drew (got as a new card) as these cards are all placed face down.

After every player draws 0 to 3 new cards, the betting begins again. Once more, player #1 for this hand has the option of opening or checking, and once someone opens, the others can see, raise, or fold.

The game ends when there are no more raises (everyone saw everyone else's bet), or everybody folds (except for the winner, of course). From there, everyone must turn their cards over and see how they fared. The player with the highest hand wins the pot.

A new hand is then dealt and the play continues on until either all the other players run out of money or they leave the game. Theoretically, a game in a casino could go on for ever if there are always new players filling in when others leave, or no one makes any decent bets or wins.

Knowing which cards to hold, the skill of the game, is a key factor, but just as important is the ability to read the other players, and play against the emotions they present. Many games and major pots are won simply by reading the expressions of the other players and taking risk. If a player has a terrible hand, but can fake everyone into thinking he has a good one, they may all fold and thus give the win to the player with the worst hand. This is called bluffing.

Cards can be fickle though, so there is also some amount of luck to a win, but one must always weigh the risks and the odds presented before them, not just for the overall game, but for each individual hand as well.

This was what Sugoroku was taught.

He was taught all the ways in which a hand can be useful including the Royal Flush, Straight Flush, Four of a Kind, Full House, Flush, Straight, Three of a Kind, Two Pair, One Pair and High Cards. He was given an idea of odds based on the cards that had already passed, and he was given ideas on which cards to hold, or discard based on what he held in his hand. He was helped to understand what bluffs, aggressive play and conservative play were, and when each of these were best played.

The basics of the game he learned thoroughly in only an hour… The instincts on which cards to keep, in only two… The hardest part for him was holding back any "tell", or body language and expression, to what he wanted the others to see, and not accidentally slip the wrong queue or signal. For the average Japanese man, it might have been a relatively easy thing, as many could be normally quite stoic, and when not, it was rarely more than a hard edge that they would show. But Sugoroku was not like that.

Remember that in his school, he had been allowed to express his ideas more freely than the average Japanese boy, to better train the others as to how those free thinking countries might do things. He had also been so easily taken with the American's natural ability to be the same open expressive type, that he found it difficult to curb.

He would tap the table absently as the others looked at their cards and placed their bets. He would grimace when something didn't look good, or he had to fold. He would even smile if he had a good hand. Basically, the others knew exactly what to do against his hand, just by watching him. They could bet aggressively against him when he signaled a weak hand, or fold when he had a good hand, so that they would not lose too much money.

Playing this way was immeasurably frustrating for Sugoroku at first, but by slow degrees, he began to spend more time observing the faces of his friends, and he soon reacted to them rather then his hand. This did help him very much as it then confused the men. But he still needed to work on his own queue very hard.

Because of that, it took several days before he had it under control enough to begin to get truly competitively with his friends, but once he had, Poker was his new obsession, and he was the ship's new worst nightmare of an opponent for a second game.

For Richter though, Sugoroku was but a mild annoyance.

* * *

Next Chapter: Winners and Losers…

(1) Head...popular nautical term for 'bathroom'. Lol, sorry. Couldn't resist!

And just for clarification...I am in no way advertising the game of poker as anything other than a card game. I personally am not a gambler and would not go running around extolling its virtues (whatever they may be), but, because it is a part of Sugoroku's life, I have included for your understanding, the basics of the game and some of the terminology applied. I will however totally admit to a rabid love of the TV show 'Las Vegas' and have watched enough of 'Celebrity Poker' to know it can be a rather interesting and competitive game.

Last note... Really it is. I Promise... There was originally some interest generated by the dreaming in color and reading theories. I have reworded that portion to better reflect that they are theories stated by the experts of Sugoroku's time, that is the 40's and 50's, not today.

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	19. Part 2, Chapter 19: Winners and Losers

**Updates** ... To recap... Sugoroku is now on his way to America, traveling on a US Naval Destroyer. You have to wonder though...what kind of attitude is a 16 year old going to pick up being stuck on board a ship for a month with a bunch of swaggering, over confident navy types? Something to consider, yes?

And one final note...due to the interest generated by that last chapter, I have put my replies at the end of this week's installment. They ran a little long and I didn't want to bore you to sleep before you got to Sugoroku. : )

Have fun everyone!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**19. Winners and Losers…**

They were just at the halfway point to Hawaii when Sugoroku played Richter.

Feeling rather secure in his ability to play decently well, he had sought the man out. When he found him in the torpedo room, he merely stood at the door until Richter noticed him.

"What do ya' want kid?" the weapons officer asked in a surly tone.

"A game."

The man stepped up to Sugoroku as he took a drag of the cigarette hanging from his lip, and as he looked Sugoroku over once thoroughly, he proceeded to blow the smoke into the younger man's face. Sugoroku forced himself not to blink more than twice at the smoke in his eyes. He wanted to hold himself still and look like a challenge worthy of notice. He hoped that by holding his ground no matter what Richter said or did, he would convey exactly that.

After a long moment, Richter nodded.

"Alright kid. You got yourself a game. Mess, 1800 hours. Got any cigarettes?"

Sugoroku nodded. The cigarette was one of the most valuable commodities when on board a ship. Men would pay almost anything just for one when they were out and needed it. He'd known that from playing chess on the docks. But it was even more so now that there was only the limited supplies the men carried on board with them. He himself did not smoke, but he'd been winning them in his games with the sailors and had amassed a nice little batch specifically to use to play Richter.

"Good. That's all I play for. Don't be late."

Sugoroku nodded and walked off. There was no need to stay. He'd gotten what he needed to know and that was all he wanted.

In just one hour he would be playing Richter.

When the appointed time came, Sugoroku walked confidently into the mess hall, a shoe box full of the cigarettes he'd won under his arm. Without a second of hesitation, he walked past some twenty spectators over to Richter's table, sat before him, and looked across as the man spoke.

"Hope you're ready to play kid."

Sugoroku only nodded as he continued to regard the man before him. Though Richter looked upon him in return with some disdain, Sugoroku did not flinch or waver in the least. He felt nothing but an over powering need to beat this man at this game, and he was ready to begin.

Richter shuffled the cards in his hand deftly as he said, "I'll keep it simple for ya' kid. Five-card draw, since that's probably what these jokers on board taught ya', high cards go. Ante up no less than 10 sticks and no bet max. Got it?"

Again Sugoroku nodded as he took 10 cigarettes from his box and rolled them to the center of the table and waited. Richter tossed 10 out into the pile and started flicking the cards out.

Sugoroku kept his eyes on Richter until after the cards were dealt and the remaining deck was set down, before picking up and looking at his cards.

5,7 and 8 of hearts, Jack of spades and 10 of clubs.

A straight, a flush, or on an outside chance, a straight flush, were his only possibilities. Richter tossed out 10 more cigarettes and got rid of one card. Sugoroku in response said, "I'll see it," and tossed out his cigarettes before getting rid of his Jack and 10. Richter tossed out the new cards and Sugoroku peered at them.

The 6 of hearts and 2 of diamonds had joined his hand. Absolutely nothing. Not even a decent high card. Sugoroku tossed his hand to the center of the table upside down as he said, "I Fold."

Richter nodded with a half smirk as he tossed his hand down for show as he stated, "two pair, Queens high."

He rolled thirty of the cigarettes back to his side, picked up all the cards and shuffled again as Sugoroku rolled another ante out. Once more, five cards each was given out.

Sugoroku's starting hand this round included two 3s, two 8s and the King of clubs. Well, two pair was better than what he had last time, but he wished one set had a higher value. He rolled ten cigarettes out and set the King loose. Richter saw the bet and tossed one card also. Sugoroku's last card of that hand was just a two of spades. No help, but he was still better than before. He rolled ten more cigarettes out. Richter saw the bet and raised it by 5. Sugoroku saw it with another 5 of his own and called it.

He placed his two pair, 8 high, down and waited. Richter gave a cold smile and placed down a full house comprised of three 7s and two Jacks. 55 cigarettes went to Richter's side.

And that was how it went for the rest of the game.

Sugoroku always seemed to be one card short of a decent hand and one step away from beating Richter. When it finally ended, Richter picked up his 2 boxs of cigarettes and gave a cold sneer as he walked off, just about every man leaving after him.

Sugoroku sat and just stared at the table. He was absolutely disgusted with himself. He knew he was better than this. Certainly every man has a run of bad luck once in a while, but this was absolutely beyond. He was sure he'd made the right choices all through out. No matter what, based on every card he had gotten, if he had tossed anything out other than what he did, he would have had less then what he ended up with.

He had never known such defeat before. It was utter, total defeat. He hadn't even been able to win a single hand. It was as if he hadn't even tried.

But he had. He knew it he had. But he still lost to Richter, and he hated the idea.

"Sugoroku?"

The young man made no answer to his friend.

Mark sat down next to him.

"You okay Sugoroku?"

"I lost."

Mark nodded sympathetically.

"We all do sometimes kid."

"I don't," replied Sugoroku through his teeth.

There was a sigh, then , "Sugoroku, Richter never loses."

"He will."

"Not anytime soon. Face it Sugoroku, he's got the luck of the cards. Why it just happens to some guys and not others, no one knows."

Sugoroku's right hand curled into a fist.

"I'll practice again and I'll play him again. And I will win."

Sugoroku gave his fist a light pound on the table to emphasize his point and then left. For hours that night, he lay on his bunk and stewed over it. How could he have lost so disgracefully? It just did not seem possible that anyone, especially him, could lose so badly. There had to be something. But what? What could it have been? What had he missed?

For the next two days, he went around to any one who would play him and again, won a sufficient pile of cigarettes to challenge Richter for a second time.

Richter happily obliged him, and proceeded to once more trounce Sugoroku as if the younger man didn't even know how to play.

Now Sugoroku didn't just feel bad…he felt completely humiliated. He couldn't even bring himself to look in a mirror. He lay in his bunk again after that for a full day and night, absorbed in so much self abuse that he didn't hear any of his friends when they tried to cheer him up.

Mark could only tolerate so much of it, and by the morning of the second full day of Sugoroku's unresponsiveness, he had reached his limit. That morning, he walked up to Sugoroku's bunk and after calling his name twice and getting no answer, he reached over, grabbed Sugoroku's shirt and hauled him completely out of bed. He set the surprised adolescent standing on the floor, and with a look of annoyance very uncharacteristic for the mild mannered man, Mark simply said, "That's enough of that. Follow me."

Sugoroku, still stunned by his friend's look, followed Mark unquestioningly through the ship's corridors to the very bowels of the Destroyer. Just outside of the engine room, Mark stopped and turned to Sugoroku.

"Okay kid. Here's the deal. I can't stand quitters and people who give in to self pity. You never struck me as the kind that would be either so here's what's going to happen. You lost. So what. You're going to suck it up and deal with it, and in the meantime, you're going to keep trying. You're no ordinary kid Sugoroku. You've proved that from day one and I'm not about to let you sink to something I know you're not. There's more than one way to play a game kid and you're going to learn how. I don't know why, but I honestly believe, that if there's anyone who can take Richter down, its you. Just about every man on board this ship believes in you just as much as I do. They want to see Richter get beat for once and I'm not going to let you disappoint them. Yeah you lost once. Sure you lost twice. You may even lose again, but that doesn't mean that it's the end and you quit. You keep going. No matter what, no matter who. You find another option… You learn more about what it is you're having trouble with… Then you go back and try it again. That's what makes a real man kid. Truth, honesty, courage, tenacity…never giving up…never running no matter how tough the journey is… You stand up to it. Will you be scared sometimes of what's in front of you? Hell yeah. But you don't run. You keep your faith in yourself and your abilities and you move forward. You are going to beat Richter and there's someone in here I think can help you."

Sugoroku stared at Mark.

He certainly had thought of playing to the best of his abilities. Captain Tanaka had been most adamant about that, but he had never once considered what the men on board the ship really thought of him and his playing. It was, in a way, a lesser version of when he had played the war games in school. People depended on his decisions for their lives in that instance. But here, people were depending on his abilities to see things right. Lives were not on the line, but honor, and the idea of what was fair, was. It was definitely a new concept.

Mark wanted him to learn a new way to play. He wanted him to beat Richter. He wanted to make sure that Sugoroku did not let everyone on board down, and think less of him. Mark wanted him to try again.

Fine.

Sugoroku's brow creased slightly with a new found understanding and need to go forward.

He would try again.

He had too.

He was being counted on.

"Ready?" asked Mark seeing Sugoroku's change.

Sugoroku nodded.

"Good. Get in there then."

Mark opened the door to the engine room and Sugoroku stepped in.

Sugoroku had been in the engine room before, and knew that it was a dangerous and noisy place to be, so he found himself wondering why Mark had seen fit to bring him here. It wasn't a long wait. From behind a large boiler, a man stepped out and Sugoroku smiled.

Vick Clemmons gave Sugoroku a half smile in return before looking up at Mark briefly.

"I'll need him for about 6 hours."

"Geez! 6 hours?"

"Yep. If it were anyone else I'd say at least a week. Of course if it were anyone else, I wouldn't be doing this at all."

"I know Vick. Thank you for your help."

Mark looked at Sugoroku seriously.

"You listen to this guy carefully kid. He's doing this as a special favor and I don't want him let down."

Mark grinned with a shake of his head, then, "You're going to learn things about cards that you never even imagined."

With that he walked out.

Quarter Master first class (QM1/c) Victor Clemmons studied Sugoroku for a long moment, before running his hand through his short, curly, red hair.

Victor Clemmons was what some would call a 'lifer'. A career navy man, Vick came aboard the Pemberton prior to her August. 23, 1943 commissioning as a first class Quartermaster, having studied the trade at the Quartermaster School in Newport, Rhode Island and at a destroyer pre-commissioning school in Norfolk, Virginia. He was considered one of the best, if not _the_ best, helmsman on board. At 32, he was also one of the older men and though he had been accepted to M.I.T., he had declined the offer to stay aboard the ships of the Navy, the Destroyer being his favorite. Its steering was like no other ship and its challenge kept him happy right where he was.

Of course, these were the known facts about the man. What most didn't know, was that Victor was an always recovering, compulsive, gambling addict. He had intentionally joined the Navy over 13 years ago, to help break a habit that was so bad, the man had would have bet his life just for one more chip.

That known, it was no wonder he had become the stoic sort who preferred to be left alone in most instances where he had the choice. Though he could tolerate being near it with out falling into his old habit, solitude was just easier to go for than sitting in a room surrounded by card playing crew members. He made such an effort to steer away from gambling in any form, that he rarely would even touch a deck of cards.

But today, he was making an exception.

"Have a seat Sugoroku," said Vick as he sat on a large waist thick pipe that ran across the room along the floor.

Sugoroku did as he was asked.

"So you played Richter and lost both times, huh?"

Sugoroku nodded as he looked down at the floor at the memory.

"I even played with all my heart."

"Don't worry 'bout it. I'm sure you played a really great game both times, but what you don't realize is that you wouldn't have won no matter how much heart you used."

Sugoroku looked up in surprise.

"But I know how to play!"

Vick grimaced.

"You know how to play poker, sure, but not the way Richter plays it."

Pale amethyst eyes blinked.

Richter played…differently?

"It…looked like the same game."

"It was supposed to."

Vick pulled a deck of cards out of his pocket and started shuffling them, and for the first time since starting to play poker, Sugoroku looked closely at the hands doing the shuffling. The way Vick did it was, in Sugoroku's mind, almost an art form. He handled them with such skill and prowess, that it was as if the cards were an extension of his hands themselves. Suddenly Vick stopped shuffling, pulled a card from the top and turned it towards Sugoroku, and without actually looking at it himself, said, "Queen of Diamonds."

Sugoroku stared dumbly at the Queen of Diamonds held before him.

Vick placed the card back on the deck, and shuffled again for several moments before stopping a second time to pull a card from the top to show Sugoroku without looking at it.

"10 of spades."

Sugoroku's jaw dropped. Again, Vick had called the card he held, but had not looked at.

"Next time, it'll be a two of clubs."

Having stated what card was to be pulled, Vick shuffled again, and then pulled a card from the top. It was the two of clubs just as he had predicted.

Sugoroku was speechless.

He could not even begin to guess how Vick had done that.

"You see Sugoroku, Richter won every time, because he knows exactly what cards are going out to who. He even knows your finishing hand before its been dealt. So, mistake number one when playing with Richter; you played him not knowing what kind of player he was. Mistake number two; you let him deal the entire time. Mistake number three; you let him use his own cards. Mistake number four, though this is actually the most minor of them; you allowed him to set the rules of the game. You see, Richter doesn't play like everyone else, because he knows how to manipulate the cards according to his whims."

"Manipulate?"

"Control, influence, maneuver. He can make any card he wants come up just by repeatedly shuffling the cards in a certain way, for a certain number of times. With a good memory and a good hand, he can call any card from any part of the deck. Here, take a look."

Sugoroku took the offered deck and slowly thumbed through it, surprised to find the entire deck back in complete order. It didn't make sense. He had seen Vick shuffling the deck over and over with his own eyes. How could he have possibly done this?

Unless…

He turned up to Vick who nodded.

"I couldn't trust my own eyes," said the young man.

"In a way and only for now. You just didn't think along that line, and even if you had, you wouldn't have known what to look for anyway. But when I'm done, you'll know. Richter," continued Vick as he took the cards back and shuffled them again, "is like a magician. What he does looks like magic, but it really is nothing more than a well set up tactic of diversion and hand movement."

Vick then bent the cards in one hand, as the shuffling paused for a moment, and a card popped up into the air almost as if by itself. The red haired man grabbed the card out of the air and slapped it back onto the deck before resuming the shuffling. He did it again three more times, and a delighted grin spread across Sugoroku's features. He had never known a simple deck of cards could be so amazing.

"Now _that _was a trick. What Richter does, is called cheating."

The smile feel away from Sugoroku's face in a heartbeat.

"He…he cheated?"

"Every time, no doubt."

Anger welled within Sugoroku at the revelation. That was what he had missed! That was why he had lost! He had been right in that he had done absolutely nothing wrong in his game play.

"How does he do this?" Sugoroku asked in a hiss.

"That's what I'm going to show you, but I want to make it clear, that this is just so you know how to spot it. I don't want to hear of you ever using what I'm about to teach you in any game, at any time, any where. Got it? I hear about it, and you'll have the honor of me in your face when I'm not a happy sailor."

Sugoroku nodded.

He didn't want to cheat, but knowing how others did it would be an incredible help for all his future games.

Vick nodded back and started to shuffle the cards again.

* * *

Next Chapter: Tricking The Cheater…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )

**Ciardra** ... Ah yes, poor Richter. Trust me though, he deserves it. I have him painted in my head as that vile bully type so it doesn't bother me one bit if he should happen to get taken down. Especially by Sugoroku. ; ) And don't worry. Its not too long of a wait.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Hmm, where do I get my ideas? Honestly, from lots of different sources. Sometimes people I know give me ideas (whether they know or not!), sometimes its personal life experience influences, sometimes its just something that strikes me while doing my research for the era and sometimes I just use a dream inspiration. I did some research on WWII and Destroyers and it turns out they were quite...rocky. Definitely not like any cruise ship. I went on a cruise a few years back (to the Bahamas baby, lol) and I remember feeling a little headache the first day even with the stabilizers they use on the big ships. (Don't ask me how they work. That I don't know!) I thought to myself, "Man! What the heck would it be like on a ship without anything to equalize the roll and pitch on the open seas?" And that's when my evil side jumped in. Poor Sugoroku. But I feel like its the little things nobody really thinks about that makes life, his life, so believable. 'Course I could be wrong! And thanks so much for reviewing my Honda one shot. It is most outrageously appreciated!

**PyroDragon2006** ... My grandfather taught me to play poker when I was little and we played with pennies or bottle caps lol. As for the dream bit... Most 'experts' of today would denounce those theories as false. Now even though I must claim a slight bit of artistic license to the wording of the dream theory content of the previous chapter, I have researched it and some neat things come to light. In the 40's and 50's (right in Sugoroku's time) people most often believed that they didn't dream in color. Scientists followed suit. Since the only way to establish such a fact was through questionnaires, it was eventually assumed that people did only dream in B&W. But we all know that famous saying about 'assume' don't we? As time progressed and these studies were repeated, it comes to light that as visual media such as TV and movies were colorized and became more available to more areas of the world, the hypothesis shifted, and more people reported seeing dreams in color. I personally think I dream in color, at least I get the impression I do, but when I wake up and think back, I can never seem to remember what the colors of an object was. This for me is odd since I make a strong effort to control my dreams and their outcomes. I also can wake myself up from one if I found it interesting enough to write down for a story idea. I have several notebooks full of such dreams. The theory of not being able to read in dreams could be due to the fact the few people can remember actually seeing words in their dreams. I dream of reading a book and yet when I wake, I cannot picture the exact words. Honestly speaking, until we can come up with a testing program that specifically targets brain activity for color dreams and reading, we may never truly know the answer. I personally am very happy thinking humans have the potential to do both, but think it truly depends on the person as an individual. Just please remember that this is technically being written in correlation to Sugoroku's time, not ours. I did go back and reword that portion of the chapter slightly to better reflect that little point, and of course, it only serves to again emphasize further that Sugoroku's ideals and beliefs are way ahead of his time. A fact with which we are very familiar with by this point, yes? However, if my insignificant writings happen to peak an interest in doing some research on anything I may throw in there, then that's awesome too. Expand your minds people! LOL. Wow. That's the longest reply I've ever written. I have a few links that you can follow to some interesting reading on the study of color in dreams and the theory, but since the 'MAN' has that annoying way of not letting us put links in, I'll just e-mail them to you. Its just easier!


	20. Part 2, Chapter 20: Tricking The Cheater

**Updates** ... Hi all!

**Ciardra** ... Well of course he was cheating. But Sugoroku is a pretty young kid whose ideals sometimes yet border on the slightly naive. He was raised with the belief that cheating was dishonorable and just not done. Heck, in that culture, even for that time, cheating could get you kicked out of the family! As for Vick teaching Sugoroku to win...well, technichally he knows how to do that already. He just has to set it up so he does. Also... Thanks ever so much for reviewing my Honda fic as well. I'm pleased you thought it was well written and researched. The research however only goes as far as to the specifically mentioned circumstances (with exception to how Jonouchi and Honda met). Everything else is put from the way I view him in those instances. Not duleing and the hair could have something to do with his lack of appeal to the general public, but I have this tendency to look at the background and wonder why "little" characters like him stick it out and figure out how they play into it all too. That makes me analyze how they relate to the others and well...off I go. : )

**PyroDragon2006** ... Glad you liked that last chapter. Some say that the final frontier is space. I personally think its the human mind. Everytime scientists think they have it figured out something new pops up that completely changes everything they thought about it before! Besides, we only achieved our short time in space because of the ingenuity and power of the human mind. And isn't trounced a cool word? Its one of my faves. As for doing so to Richter...well, the wait is over! Just check out below!

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Thank you for the compliment. Everyone has their moments of disorientation and personally, I feel Sugoroku/Solomon would have gotten out of his funk eventually. Mark just sort of sped the process up a bit. And don't worry, the writing will continue!

**LadyAlthea** ... Very glad you liked!

And now, the long awaited chapter! LOL!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**20. Tricking The Cheater…**

Vick didn't just show Sugoroku how to spot a cheater and card shark. He taught the young man how to do it all himself. It was Vick's opinion, that the best way for Sugoroku to learn to identify all the tips and hints that spoke of a cheater, would be to know exactly how to do it himself, so that it would be even easier for Sugoroku to spot.

Everything from card counting, shift shuffling, marking the cards, palming a card, and even common hiding places on a person's body was included. Vick even taught Sugoroku a few fancy magician's card tricks as well.

It had been a little difficult initially for Sugoroku to handle the cards as effortlessly as Vick, since the young man's hands and fingers were no where near as long. But that was what the card tricks were for…to help Sugoroku find the best way to learn his control over the cards. That, and it was, Sugoroku admitted, rather fun.

His favorite of those tricks was the Magic Bridge. This was where the magician would bend the cards out from one hand, so they seemed to leap away and into the person's other hand. It was a difficult trick in itself, but even more so, was being able to do it back to the other hand.

Sugoroku was typically right handed and had never given any thought as to developing the dexterity of his left, but it suddenly became a high priority for him to work on it. The only other step further in the trick, was being able to do it either way, over an area larger than 5 inches. Vick could make them jump reasonably, with up to a foot between his hands.

The one main exercise above all that Sugoroku really excelled in however, was card counting.

Sugoroku was a thinker. Not just of deep insight, but his thoughts were almost always logically oriented. During a chess match, or while handling life, he looked at the circumstances presented before him clearly and made theories based on his observations, and all the possibilities he could see. He placed things in order within his mind and in doing so, relieved himself of the useless, cluttering, nonessential bits of information that meant nothing to the problem at hand. Having found his way to the basic facts, everything was suddenly understood, and his mind made leaps to the right conclusions, almost without any conscious effort.

With a mind so highly organized, and an incredibly quick memory to boot, Sugoroku was remarkably well suited to order and organize any set of numbers or items before him into a completely understandable and predictable sequence of events. Had he lived in an area so inclined, he could have easily attained the height of stardom as a mathematician, or perhaps as a code breaker.

So adroit in his mental marking of the cards was he, that as long as Vick did not make a mistake or change his shuffling, Sugoroku could just as easily foresee each card as it would appear, as the man had done earlier. Even more amazing, was that once a card was removed and the shuffling shifted by one card, Sugoroku's mind automatically excluded that set card and rearranged the entire order of the rest of the deck, allowing him to correctly predict the next placed card.

Vick had not done that earlier. He had merely pulled a card to show, then replaced it back into the pile where it was supposed to sit, before shuffling again. He was working with the same number of cards in his head every time. What Sugoroku did was far more incredible. As each card left Vick's hand, Sugoroku's mind readjusted the deck, and so, readjusted the outcome. Sugoroku couldn't explain how he did it. He just did. It just came to him. One moment his head was clear, the next, a specific card image would fill it.

In the end it had taken only 5 hours for Sugoroku to correctly identify every time Vick tried to cheat, and though he had said he was pleased with Sugoroku's progress, Vick's expression never went beyond a sort of strained acceptance. For him, it was a struggle to watch Sugoroku exercise so easily a skill that could not truly be taught. Vick knew that if he had been gifted with it, he would still be gambling his life away.

Sugoroku however, remained blissfully unaware of his friend's inner demons, and was absolutely elated at what he had learned. He now had the tools with which to beat Richter, or any other card cheating opponent, in just about every conventional card game imaginable. He was not going to be tricked again.

The only thing difficult for Sugoroku from this point, was getting people to play him to build his cigarette cache back up reasonably enough to face Richter one last time. No one wanted to risk losing what few cigarettes they had left when they were sure that it would just end up in Richter's personal pile.

Sugoroku begged and cajoled, pleaded and paid more than a few dollars in order to get even a quarter of a shoe box full, but that wasn't enough. Richter wouldn't even look at him if he didn't have a serious amount.

A little later, he sat on the edge of his bunk kicking his feet absently back and forth as he leaned forward with a frown, all the while absently shuffling a deck of cards within his hands. Mark came strolling down the aisle with a grin.

"Not bad, Sugoroku. When you learn something new, you learn it pretty well."

Sugoroku gave a half nod as he stopped shuffling, pulled a card out to show Mark, placed it back in the deck and after 6 shuffles, pulled the same card out to show Mark a second time.

Mark grinned.

"Now that was good. Looks like you got a handle on the cards, but why the long face?"

"No one will play me for cigarettes so I can challenge Richter again."

Mark sat on the bunk across from Sugoroku as he nodded understandingly.

"Once bitten, twice shy."

Sugoroku looked up at the new phrase.

"It means that when something has gone wrong the first time, people don't want to try to do it again and risk the same bad thing happening again."

"They're afraid I'll lose to Richter again?"

"Yeah. That's why they won't give up their last cigarettes for you. If you get them and lose them, that's it. Some of these guys will have to wait another day or two before we hit Hawaii before they can get a drag. Richter may sell them back, but he charges 10 times what its worth. For some, that's too much to risk."

"I understand, but, I won't lose this time."

"You're sure?"

Sugoroku smiled broadly in answer.

"Well if you feel that secure, I'm guessing you have a game plan for when you do play Richter."

"Yes."

"Then I suppose there's nothing left to do, but get that game set up."

"But no one will…"

"Don't worry about it. Just be ready to play him tomorrow at lunch, okay? I'll take care of everything.

Sugoroku smiled.

He trusted Mark to do exactly as he said.

He just hoped that everyone trusted him enough to let him follow through with his plan.

xxxxxxxxx

The next morning passed in unusual quiet on board the Pemberton. Sugoroku found it rather odd that so many of the men were keeping so uncommonly quiet. Even more strange, was the way most of them looked at him as they passed by with secretive little nods and hidden smiles.

Sugoroku did not know that after he had turned in for the night, word had passed through the ship like wild fire among those trustworthy, that there was to be one more game between himself and Richter. It had been assured to them that Richter was not going to win, and most of the men wanted desperately to see such an event.

So many in fact, that when lunch time came, the mess was packed from one end to the other, front to back, with men sitting even on the table tops to get a view.

When Richter walked in, he stopped in wary surprise at the silent men staring at him. He looked at their grinning faces from side to side as he slowly made his way to his normal spot, but again stopped dead when several men moved away, to reveal Sugoroku sitting in his very seat.

Sugoroku sat with his arms crossed across his chest, his head bowed.

"You're in my spot kid. Move it or lose it."

Sugoroku did not move.

"I think you'll find there's been a little change in plans," said Mark from behind Richter.

Richter looked at him, "What?"

Mark smiled.

"You see, we all decided that instead of having lunch first today, we'd all have a sit down and watch a little poker."

Richter gave a contemptuous glance at Sugoroku.

"Heh. I get it. Another challenge from the kid. Well, tough luck boys. I play when I want too. Not when I'm told to."

"Oh, but we insist," said Mark as Leo, Squawk, Mick and about 10 others leaned in towards Richter, a daring smile on each of their faces.

Richter glared at the men as the two lackeys that generally followed him about, quickly slid away from his side. With more than three quarters of the crew present, Richter was on his own.

There was silence for a moment, then, "I think he's afraid."

Richter turned back to the table quickly, his eyes narrowing dangerously.

"What did you say?"

Sugoroku tilted his head up only enough to see Richter from just under his brow, a half smirk fixed to his lips.

"Ya' know. I think he's right guys," added Leo cheerfully, "Old Rick does look a little nervous, don't ya think?"

There was a general mummer of agreement from across the room, and Richter's face turned a soft shade of red.

"I'm not afraid of anyone or anything."

"Prove it then. Play the kid. One more game," edged Mark.

Richter's nostrils flared as he looked about in angry hesitation.

"Are you afraid I'll win?" asked Sugoroku smartly.

Jaw clenched tight, Richter eyed Sugoroku severely.

"Fine. You want a game? You got it," came the man's answer as he sat down before Sugoroku.

"Sam! Get my box…"

"Here it is," said Leo as he tossed Richter's personal box of cigarettes on the table before the man could even finish asking his lackey to get it.

Richter looked at it for a moment, before pulling out his deck of cards and started shuffling aggressively.

"Kid, you shoulda' stuck to playing chess," Richter hissed. If poison could have shot out of Richter's eyes just then, Sugoroku would have been dead right there.

Sugoroku only continued his half smirk at the man.

Cigarettes were rolled out onto the middle of the table, cards were dealt and the game began.

Hand one ended with a pair of Kings for Sugoroku and a full house for Richter.

Hand two saw a low end straight for the younger man while Richter came out with flush.

In hand three, both had two pair with Richter the higher, a pair of Jacks over Sugoroku's highest pair of 7's.

In every way, it was, for the men surrounding the two players, like watching the other two games that Sugoroku had played against Richter except for one key difference.

Sugoroku's smirk never faded.

He sat the entire time, in a relaxed slouch, as if this were but a formality. He would glance at his cards only casually, before tossing his useless ones out onto the table like they were just a piece a trash. And he met every cold glare from Richter with an assured, confident disdain.

Though he was, in every possible way losing, he acted as though this game was hardly worthy of notice. True to his word, he would not cheat against Richter, but it gave him a supreme amount of amusement to be able to now so easily see ever trick Richter pulled.

It was almost astonishing!

Where before all he could see was shuffling cards, he now saw every flick of the man's wrists, every finger nailed card, every snip upon the sides of the cards, every held card…not a trick went past his eyes unnoticed. The self satisfaction he felt from the knowledge gave him the smile that graced his young face.

And it was driving Richter nuts.

He thought he understood what it was that had happened to Sugoroku.

That the kid had found his game face. What Richter didn't understand was how he could hold it so steady as his limited pile of cigarettes dwindled down to nothing. Sugoroku's calm, was almost unearthly, and the way the boy's eyes shone… It was as if the kid knew the outcome of the game already, and saw that there was going to be a new winner.

Slowly, inexorably, the game was coming to a close, and when it was clear that with only enough cigarettes left for one final hand, Sugoroku would more than likely lose, Richter grinned in glee as he shuffled the cards.

"Looks like this is it kid. Prepare to lose."

Sugoroku's gaze, his intensity, never shifted. It was time to play the real game. The last he would play with Richter.

"If you're so sure that I will lose, maybe you'll make a special wager with me this hand then."

Richter studied Sugoroku carefully.

"What kind of special wager?"

"I would like to see if you think that you will win well enough to bet every cigarette that is not originally yours on this last hand."

Richter laughed.

"What? Me bet every cigarette I have on one hand against your weak little handful? What do you take me for? I win and get maybe 30 more from you. I lose, not that I will mind you, but you get several hundred. Not exactly a fair bet pal."

Mark put five shoe boxes full to the brim, several over flowing, with packs and loose cigarettes in the center of the table as Sugoroku spoke quietly.

"How about this then. Every last cigarette, from every man here, against yours. One hand. All or nothing."

Richter stared at the pile in deep surprise. He licked his lips.

"Every last cigarette from every man here?" he asked slowly.

Sugoroku nodded.

There was a long moment of silence. It was deep a silence full of tension…full of edge. The nerves of every man in the room were keyed to over drive.

Would Richter accept?

"Well?" pressed Sugoroku, "You said yourself you weren't going to lose. What is there to think about? You couldn't possible be afraid of me winning…could you?"

Richter's lip twitched into a grin.

"Alright. One last hand."

Leo unceremoniously plunked Richter's other 7 shoe boxes of cigarettes next to Sugoroku's as Richter started to shuffle again.

"Oh, just one more thing."

Richter looked at Sugoroku curiously.

"For the last hand, we will use an outside dealer."

"What!"

"And…a new deck of cards."

Sugoroku pulled out a completely fresh, never opened, box of cards and slapped them down onto the table as Richter stared in shock.

"No more cheating, no more tricks. Completely honest and completely fair."

Richter's face grew dark as his left eyelid twitched in high agitation.

"I won't accept this," he said as he stood up, but Mark and Leo's hands on his shoulders, held him to his spot.

"Too late man. You accepted the last hand," smiled Mark.

"Not like this I didn't!"

"What's the matter son? Scared of a little fair play?"

Every man turned in unison to see Admiral Faraday standing in the door. There was a rush of bodies as the men stood in strict attention as a path was immediately made to allow the Admiral to get through the horde of men without issue.

Once Admiral Faraday was before Richter, he gave a grim smile.

"I think, son, that if you want to keep what semblance of honor you still have, you should play the hand."

"Sir, aye sir!" was Richter's strict reply.

"And unless anyone has a problem, or there was another choice already made, I'd like to deal this hand if you don't mind."

The Admiral peered around Richter at Sugoroku.

"I was going to let him chose someone," began Sugoroku, "but this is better. It would be an honor sir, to have you deal this last hand."

Admiral Faraday nodded. He sat down on the bench beside where Richter stood, and as he opened the new deck he said, "Sit down Richter. You have a game to finish. And the rest of you, as you were."

Richter did as he was commanded, a tight sullen look across his features.

"I'll still win," he said.

Sugoroku just smirked.

Admiral Faraday's skill at shuffling was barely marginal at best, and it took everything that Sugoroku had to keep from laughing at the man's awkward handling of the cards, but he got the job done, and at least everyone could be assured that there would be no underhanded tricks.

The first round of cards was dealt and Sugoroku picked his up. He gave them a glance, rearranged them and then proceeded to push them together and hold them face down as he looked across at Richter.

Richter tossed one card out, received one and suddenly his dark face cleared and a huge grin spread. He looked at Sugoroku.

"You're going down kid."

"You're sure about that?"

Richter paused in his glee.

"Are you crazy or somethin'? Just get your next cards so I can call it a game and get outta' here."

"I don't need too."

"What?"

"I'm done."

"You're not taking any cards?"

Sugoroku shook his head once and Richter laughed.

"Then read them and weep!"

Richter slapped his hand onto the table.

"Straight flush you little runt. Spades 7 though Jack. You lose!"

Richter reached across to pull the boxes in his direction, but the admiral's clearing throat checked him.

"Ah ahem, I think I'd like to see Sugoroku's hand first, before you go grabbing at those cigarettes, Richter."

Richter looked first at the admiral and then at Sugoroku in surprise.

Sugoroku's half smirk filled into a full smirk. He lifted the hand with his cards before his face, fanned them out with his thumb, and then proceeded to gently place the cards onto the table, his eyes never leaving Richter's face.

There was a hush across the room before Sugoroku said quietly, "Royal flush. Hearts. I win."

A stunned moment passed as the sailors took it in before a monstrous cheer went up from around the entire room, causing the tables to vibrate from the sound. Sugoroku had not only beaten Richter, he had beaten him with the only hand that could…the hardest hand to achieve in poker…the Royal Flush.

Dozens of hands reached to slap Sugoroku upon the back or grab his shoulders in congratulations, but he ignored them all. His entire concentration was on committing to permanent memory, the look of pure shock and disbelief on Richter's face. It was the sweetest thing he'd ever seen, and he would never forget it so long as he lived.

As his friends took the boxes of cigarettes from off the table to parade them around the room - to the obvious delight of the still cheering men - Sugoroku crossed his arms as he glared at Richter in contempt.

"Luck of the cards? Not even close."

"I want a rematch!" yelled Richter as he jumped to his feet, "No one but you and me. No stupid rules either! Just us."

"Humph," half snorted Sugoroku as he looked away, "I don't think so. I'm making it a new rule to never play a cheater from this point on. Richter, you're no longer even worthy of my notice."

That said, Sugoroku stood and stepped away from the table to walk towards the doors. Halfway there, he stopped and called out, "These cigarettes were originally won unfairly from all of you. They will be split up and every man will receive a share of them."

There was another cheer and again, Sugoroku felt the hands of the men around him patting him on the back as others shook his shoulders and even a few musing up his hair. They thanked him repeatedly and Sugoroku could only smile in embarrassment.

It was only fair as far as he was concerned. Richter had taken these cigarettes from them by cheating and Sugoroku was returning them through honesty and fairness. It was just the right thing for him to do. Besides, what would a kid who didn't smoke do with close to a thousand cigarettes?

Maybe give it a try sometime, and see what the fuss over them was really about?

Perhaps…but now would not be the time, for a moment later, a man jogged into the mess hall and called out, "Hawaii off the port bow!"

There was an impossibly loud whoop again from the men, and suddenly there was a melee of movement as all the men rushed up to the top decks in an excited flurry. Sugoroku, still high from his victory over Richter, went with them, and once above, pushed through the taller men to get to the rails and look out over the calm blue waters.

In the distance he could see a stretch of islands, the largest of which had a cone shaped mountainous peak.

Sugoroku smiled as Mark moved next to him.

"That is Hawaii?" he asked.

Mark grinned.

"You got it kid. Welcome to paradise."

* * *

Next Chapter: Confusion in Paradise...

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	21. Part 2, Chapter 21: Confusion in Paradis...

**Updates** ... "Here I go again on my own! Down the only road I've ever known!" Opps. Sorry. You caught me singing. Now I'm embarrassed, lol. Hey all! I've recently found another rather interesting cartoon out there. It's probably old hat to all of you but "Fairly Odd Parents" has for some odd reason caught my attention, and I'm loving it! Cosmo and Wanda are awesome! There are a few decent fics out there about it too. The best by far would be the continuing four part fic called the "The Other Saga" by soulful-sin, http / www . fanfiction . net / u / 516158 /. Its dark and angsty but cool as heck. Especially if you like seeing these character suffer. You should definitely read the first three parts as well or Part four will make little sense. I can't wait for her to update it! I'm really enjoying it.

**Ciardra** ... Mark says 'anytime' and it was no problem. He enjoyed watching Richter get taken out just as much as anyone else and he was very happy to set it up. Lol. Like I always say, 'Pride goeth before a fall'. Okay, so maybe I don't always say that. But it is true. Richter set himself up for that long before Sugoroku even came into the picture. He definately got what he deserved. At least in my book.

**PyroDragon2006** ... Kukyou (trouble) may be Sugoroku's middle name! As for finding it in Hawaii...well...he might... ; )

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Mmmmm...chocolate...ahhhh... Okay, so much for my Homer Simpson imatation. Glad you were happy to see Solomon/Sugoroku win. I was too!

**Tamara Raymond** ... Welcome back Tamara! I'm glad life has finally let you return to the saga that is Sugoroku! And boy is he ever happy to have you back to correct all my little mistakes!

**Lady Althea** ... Sooo glad you liked it!

Did you know that the word "trouble" has more than a hundred individual useage spellings in Japanese? The one I choose '_kukyou'_ is defined as... "(n) trouble; crisis; predicament". Hmm... Sugoroku, 16 yrs old, too smart for his own good sometimes, in Hawaii... Seemed like the right choice to me!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**21. Confusion in Paradise…**

The archipelago islands that make up Hawaii will sit on any correct map between 154° 40' W to 162° W Longitude by 16° 55' N to 23° N Latitude. At 1,523 miles in length, it is the world's longest island chain. Bordered on all sides by the Pacific Ocean, it claims a land area of 6,423 square miles and a water area of 4,508 square miles, and even manages to claim a surprisingly high point of 13,796 feet at the tip of Mauna Kea.

The entire chain consists of 132 individual islands, but it is generally accepted that when one speaks of Hawaii, they are referring to the eight main islands, each of which is the top of a submerged volcanic mountain. The remaining 124 islands together only comprise about three square miles and are not fit for human habitation. All of the main islands, with the exception of Kahoolawe, are inhabited.

Yes, a good map will tell you its precise location by the degree, tells you how many islands are part of it, gives you an estimate of size and comparative length, but does not give the curious reader any hint as to the true diversity and beauty of these amazing islands.

From black sand beaches to tropical rain forests, calm palm fields to heated and active volcanoes, plains of glass like lava rocks to the sweet perfumed flowered glades, there are few islands that can present so much in so little space. Here, one can find active volcanoes, long dead craters, magnificent waterfalls tumbling hundreds of feet, and sheer cliffs rising from the very edge of the ocean. Whole forest plantations of pineapples and macadamia trees fill the fertile land, and multitudes of endemic life, that can be found no where else in the world, flourish abundantly with subspecies that can vary dramatically even from island to island.

And with coral reefs and ancient atolls, the waters surrounding the land are no exception. Fish of every imaginable color and shape, dart and flit around the calcified remains of shellfish that passed centuries ago, as gentle and ever patient sea turtles float by, hardly noticing the gambling of their water going neighbors. Spinner dolphins play about, doing daring feats of acrobatics while humpback whales glide majestically through the warm waters of the North coast off the island of Oahu.

This last, Sugoroku had the good fortune to view first hand as the Pemberton came down across that south western side of Oahu. Though it was towards the end of their winter season there, several massive humpbacks had stayed on a little longer than their counterparts, and as the Destroyer broke through the water to begin its course around to the south-western corner of the island, three of these great, deep gray creatures sallied lazily along with the Pemberton as if mistaking her for some long genetically distant relative.

Sugoroku watched them in fascination even after they left the Destroyer's side, and as the whales began to head in a North-easterly direction, one of the largest suddenly breeched the surface of the water, and with a turn in the air it came crashing onto its back, spouts of water shooting from its massive bulk in all directions.

The natural wonders filled Sugoroku's eyes and he smiled in appreciation at the immeasurable beauty. Only two weeks ago, he had been nothing more than a child of the streets, born and raised in a jungle of homes and concrete with thousands of shades of gray for the colors of his landscape. Now here he stood, feasting upon visions that he had never guessed could have existed. That side of him that yearned to know all that was different ate it all in gluttonously, ravenously, as if he would never be full. His friends could not even get him to leave the rails long enough to get dinner. As far as Sugoroku was concerned, food was not the necessity just then.

The Destroyer made its way down the eastern side of Oahu and than, turned to travel along the southern side for a short time, before turning left into an inlet. Once in its mouth, the destroyer cruised along sedately, having cut its speed by more than three quarters, to make its short run through the bottle neck of the inlet. To the left of the inlet sat Pearl Harbor West Loch Naval Magazine. To the right was Hickam Air Force Base. A little further in, the inlet widened, and then split in two. Upon the out cropping that separated the water, sat the Pearl Harbor Naval Base. Having taken the right, the ship continued on until Sugoroku was able to see the waterway widen again before an island, Ford Island, split the water. Another angle to the right, and the Pemberton was there. Pearl Harbor…where 5 years ago began the war that was changing Sugoroku's life.

Sugoroku's earlier amazement at the beauty of the islands slipped away as he remembered all that had occurred that had brought him to this point. It had all begun on a Sunday morning. A surprise attack that had killed some 2000 American men before they'd even had a chance to defend themselves. Some still sleeping, some at Sunday morning religious services, some still eating breakfast…all not knowing.

It was here that began the long run of sea battles and, eventually, the land maneuvers that came to a head with the bombings of his own home town and the Atomic holocausts of Nagasaki and Hiroshima.

Yes, Sugoroku knew. Too well. The piles of twisted and broken bodies, the charred remains of men, women and children, the silent desert that was for months the heart of Tokyo…these images had not left Sugoroku. Nor did they fail to affect him now that he stood at the beginning of it all. How could it not? Especially when he so often dreamed of them all at night… He'd already lost count of the number of times his friends had shaken him awake from those nightmares.

He closed his eyes and tried to push them away, tried to send the faces frozen in agony and terror to the blackness of some deep hidden pit within his mind.

But they persisted.

They refused to be ignored. They refused to be forgotten. They would not allow their memory to retreat to another plain. In Sugoroku they had found a home that all too easily recalled every detail, a mind that remembered every shade of horror, and an imagination that saw how each one of those spirits had died as if he had been witness to it first hand.

Sugoroku was one they would be remembered by.

As the Destroyer was gently edged into a berthing slip by a small naval tug boat, Sugoroku finally left the rails and went below decks to his bunk, where he lay the rest of the night, sleeping in fits and starts and in between those, trying to understand his own mind, the play of the world, and its effect upon his life.

Had there been no war, he thought, there would have been no lives lost. Had there been no war, there would have been no battles to fight. Had there been no war, he would never have gone to the military school. Had there been no war, he would never have found out there could be a difference within his own station of living. Had there been no war, there would not have been any Americans, no chess, no job, no invitation, no journey to another land, and no chance of such magnificent beauty to see. Had there been no war, Sugoroku would most likely still be at home, living his father's way of life, living by his rules, never knowing there could be anything different or better... An empty shell of existence forever stuck in a life that he saw not as his, but as his father's.

Did things happen for a reason?

Was there really a certain amount of fate to all that happened in the world, or was it just a matter of simple luck?

Did a person follow the steps set before him in a blind rote, or did his experiences depend on his own personal will and aim?

Sugoroku wasn't sure about the war itself, but he was sure he had made his own choice when he had decided to come along to America. He still did believe that who he was to become would happen there, not in Japan, but whether that was because he willed it so or it was a preordained path, he just could not say.

The following morning found Sugoroku pensive as he walked alone along the dock that the Pemberton had been tied to. The men were refitting the Destroyer with a few new gears and on the outside, the ship was getting a fresh paint job, keeping Sugoroku's normal company busy for most of the coming week.

This left Sugoroku with too much time to sit and think about his place in the grand scheme of things and with the way he had been the previous night, he found it didn't look so great for him just yet. Sure he was going to America, but who knew what would happen once he got there?

"Hey, Sugoroku! Wait up pal!"

Sugoroku paused his depressing revere and looked up to see a smiling Leo running up to him.

"What are ya' doin' all out here by yourself Sugoroku?"

The young man simply shrugged as he continued his slow amble.

Leo looked at him in curious amusement.

"You know what you need?"

Sugoroku only glanced at Leo in half hearted interest.

Leo finished, "A good game of poker."

That did it. Sugoroku stopped dead and turned to face Leo.

"Is there any place around here to play?"

Leo laughed as if it was the craziest question on the earth.

"Sugoroku pal, just hang by my side a while, and you'll get into games held beneath a man's very nose without him ever seeing."

For the first time in a full day Sugoroku smiled broadly.

xxxxxxxxx

Just as Leo had said, there were games to be played all through out Oahu, and Sugoroku didn't have to go far. In fact, he only needed to go about 2 miles down the road to a little town called Aliamanu, to find several.

Leo had a few friends in the only real bar in the town - or 'men's club' as some of the military men called it - who had several back rooms where the American men and the locals would daily meet for a few good rounds of cards. Though the looks that Sugoroku initially received were a far cry less than friendly, he quickly established his right to be there by working his way through 3 sets of games winning every time.

This, in short order, earned him a seat in a fourth game in which he was set loose against three air force men each claiming to be the best the air corps had to offer. Sugoroku ignored their blustering affirmations and started in with several quick aggressive bets that settled the other men down very quickly, plainly telling them that they had better back their words up with good play if they were to keep those honors with him around. It was a good way to start the game in Sugoroku's mind. By taking them so quickly off kilter, he was sure that he was going to get some stiff competition now that men were thinking more carefully. But then for some reason, things turned a corner, and Sugoroku's edge was lost in a strange swirl of perfume, touch and youthful confusion.

Sugoroku was settled well into the game when he noticed her. A brown haired woman with a low cut blouse, voluminous skirts and a nose cutting flowery perfume, had at some point come to stand right behind him. Now ordinarily, the thought that someone stood behind as he played the game, would not have been a bother to Sugoroku. After all, the men on board the ship had done so all the time, especially with so little space afforded them in which to watch. Sugoroku had just ignored their presence and never considered them.

But this woman was too close, unnervingly close, and Sugoroku was not sure how to deal with it. He tried to ignore her at first, continuing his game as if the woman was not there at all. But the woman seemed adamant that he should remember she was there, and she would regularly lean forward a little, letting her arm brush his shoulder or rustle his hair with a breath. Sugoroku leaned forward himself in his chair to try to avoid her, his annoyance growing though not quite as fast as his inexperienced uncertainty. She only leaned closer still. He tried leaning back quickly, to bump her arm slightly, apologizing afterward in a feint to try to call attention to her over closeness. She merely smiled at him and seemed not to notice otherwise. He even resorted to giving her annoyed and unhappy looks, which she seemed to ignore completely. It was really reaching the limit.

He couldn't concentrate on the game as effectively as he wished and while he wasn't losing in any way, he certainly wasn't gaining advance ground or dollars on his opponents. His irritated edge become nervousness at his inability to understand why this woman would be so near, and as his thoughts became more and more settled on the intruder of his personal space, he soon found himself losing hands to aggressive betting.

The loss of almost 30 dollars in one hand should have - would have - normally been enough to jog Sugoroku back onto full attention to the game, but just before his thoughts could shift to resentment at his recent loss and push him once more to full game mode, there was a firm touch at the back of his head and the young man's body went rigid as he quickly realized what had just happened.

His nerve gone, Sugoroku shoved his chair back regardless of who stood there, and he very nearly ran out of the room, pushing a few surprised spectators aside as he went, his money and the game, forgotten. He left the bar and not daring to slow his quick pace, Sugoroku started down the road back towards the Naval yards and the Pemberton.

"Sugoroku!" called a voice from behind him.

He ignored it.

"Hey! Come on man! Hold up!"

Sugoroku did not oblige the follower. He continued his harried walk, seriously intent on getting back to the ship.

Leo finally caught up to him, a confused look across his face.

"What the heck happened in there Sugoroku?" asked Leo, "One second you're owning the place, the next you're storming out like someone just called your mom a nasty name or something. What happened?"

Sugoroku flushed red at the thought of what had prompted his retreat.

"I couldn't stand it anymore."

"Couldn't stand what?"

"That woman behind me."

"What? You're kidding? What did she do?"

Sugoroku would not meet his friend's eye. It was too embarrassing to talk openly about such things that had never exactly been encouraged discussion in his home.

"She would not stop bothering me."

"Some girls are annoying like that. Couldn't you just ignore her?"

"I tried."

Leo thought for a moment before saying, "There has to be more than that. I've seen you play Sugoroku, and I know for a fact that when you don't want to notice something, you won't. What's really going on?"

Sugoroku huffed slightly. Maybe he should say something. Perhaps Leo could help him understand.

"She…she was always so close. She was touching my arm or my shoulder, and she wouldn't stop no matter what I did. I tried to be nice, then look annoyed, but she didn't care. Then right before I got up she…well, she…"

"Yes," egged Leo.

"Well, she bumped against me…the back of my head…"

Leo stopped and looked at Sugoroku in surprise. An experienced enough man, Leo quickly saw the scene in his head and understood what had happened to prompt Sugoroku's retreat.

"You mean she touched her chest against the back of your head?"

Sugoroku looked down in red faced awkwardness as he nodded.

"Hmm. You sure it wasn't an accident or something? Maybe you moved back a little, or…"

"It wasn't an accident. I didn't move. And I don't think she was falling either."

The two stood quietly for a few moments before Leo shifted his feet uncomfortably for a moment.

"Listen, pal, uh, can I ask you something?"

Sugoroku nodded slowly.

"Have you, uh, ever been with a girl?"

Sugoroku looked up at Leo in curiosity. It was a phrase he'd heard in passing more than once from many of the guys on board the ship, but he'd never been quite sure what it meant. His innocence to the phrase obvious, Leo tried several other options.

"You know, gone out with,…touched,…slept with, aw hell! Have you even kissed a girl before?"

Now that the topic of conversation was clear, Sugoroku's face first turned to one of pure shock, then one of total embarrassment as the already present shade of red deepened to something between an over ripe tomato and a pickled red beet.

Leo whistled at the expression.

"Okay. I'm thinking that _that_ is a definite no on all accounts."

Sugoroku continued to shine red as he swallowed nervously.

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked quietly.

Leo jumped a step.

"What? No! Hell no! You're only sixteen right? No big thing at all. You're still just a kid really. 'Course it does sort of explain the problem right there."

Sugoroku's face cleared, the red toning down, as the idea that Leo could explain what had happened to him in the bar took over and gave him a momentary sense of relief.

"The woman in there, she was being really forward with you. She was acting like she was interested in you in a really obvious way and since you don't have any experience with women, that you're admitting to anyway, you didn't know how to react to it. She caught you way off guard and, well, you're a guy, so its normal that you might let it affect you…to some degree."

"Why would she do that? Especially while I was trying to play?"

Leo shrugged.

"Not totally sure there pal. Maybe she was really interested in you. Maybe she thought you were cute as hell or something. Maybe she just saw you were winning and wanted to grab you before any other girl could notice you. Some girls really go for men with power and with the way you play, I wouldn't be surprised a bit if it doesn't happen often. Then of course, she could have been doing it to intentionally distract you from the game. She may have been one of the other guy's girlfriend or something with orders to bother the biggest competition so her guy stood a better chance of winning. I don't know why she did it really, but what I do know, is that until you get used to them being around and figure out what they really mean to you, you're going to be distracted by them really easy for a long time."

Sugoroku thought about it for a moment. For him, it didn't matter if she had been interested in him as a guy, was a power hungry girl or she was out to derail him as a competitor. It had been enough that she had bothered him to the point where he had walked out on a game! It was not a thought he liked at all and the way Leo put it, it seemed that it may well become a plague to his playing skill if he didn't understand it all better.

"So then, what do I do to be clear on why they're doing what they are?"

Leo grinned.

"Sugoroku my friend, I'd be a rich man if I had those answers! Okay, here's you're first lesson in 'Ladies 101 from Leo's point of view'. Girls are a tough bunch. They don't think like a guy does. When we decide to so something, we just do it. When a girl decides to do something, she has to think about how the best way to do it is, when to do it at just the right time and even how to go about doing it and still look pretty. There's another example. Guys in the bathroom just brush their hair and they're done. Girls go in and spend about an hour making themselves up to look pretty instead of just getting on out and going. Now I'm not going to complain about a pretty girl, kid. The prettier the better in my book. But they shouldn't have to spend that much time just to look that good. Makes me wonder sometimes what's really underneath all that make up."

"So, they're vain?"

"Some are, but don't ever dare imply that to a woman you're hoping to catch or its adios pal. Off they go into the sunset, usually on the arm of another guy. Not all girls are like that though, but knowing which are and which aren't, well, until you get a feel for it, just take the safe course and compliment her on how pretty she is. Its works most of the time nicely."

Sugoroku shook his head.

"If its so hard, then why do you bother with them?"

Leo's jaw dropped nearly to the floor in stunned disbelief, but he quickly recovered.

"Oh boy kid! We have definitely got to get you around a few girls. Didn't you ever see a girl you wanted to be near back home?"

Sugoroku shook his head truthfully.

"I was too busy with school to notice. I knew a few girls where I grew up, but we were just friends. I had no interest in them. There was one girl at a festival once who kept looking at me, but her parents took her away before we could talk."

"Ouch," said Leo in sympathetic male pride, "Not the best of starts there, huh? It doesn't matter though. From this point on, you are going to learn the American way of getting a girl and I, Leo the love master, will help you."

* * *

A/N: Hmmm. Leo teaching Sugoroku about girls... Does anyone else get a bad feeling about that, or is it just me?

Next Chapter: Paradise Found…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	22. Part 2, Chapter 22: Paradise Found

**Updates** ... Wow! Everyone keying into Leo on that last chapter. I guess you really smart readers know when something is up! My thoughts regarding Leo? Everyone should be afraid. Very very afraid. I'd love to tell you what kind of effect he has on Sugoroku's life in the long run, and believe me, he will have an effect! But I can't. I have been sworn to secrecy. Well, not really. But I still can't tell you. If I did, you wouldn't have a reason to come back and keep reviewing!

**PyroDragon2006** ... You are always the first to review! Such consistency. I love that! I have to be honest, I've never been to Hawaii. But I do hope to make it there eventually. I have to thank all the reruns of Hawaii Five-O for a lot of my visual references. I used to watch it all the time during the summer. Ah, Steve McGarrett. He was so weird, lol. Anyway, glad you liked!

**Lady Althea** ... It was a little amusing. Poor Sugoroku.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... The Longitude and Latitude was just another one of my insignificant ways of teaching you all something new. Of course that usually means I'm learning something new too when I research it! And I thank you so much for the wonderful praise on my writing. I am very grateful and pleased you think so highly of it. As for it being my own style...I'm just glad it stands out enough to keep you all coming back for more!

**Ciardra** ... Lol, yes tremble all before Leo the love master! I didn't actually flat out script it to be a woman really after Sugoroku just because he could play well. I had it more in mind that it was one of the other players girlfriend trying to distract him. But there will be chance(es) in the future for the ladies to be very 'interested' in him because of the way handles a game. ; )

And yes, I apologize to you all right now for this chapter getting up so late. I was sick for a couple of days and couldn't even get out of bed let alone sit in front of the computer. Just looking at it made me dizzy! On top of that, the servers were acting silly again and wouldn't let me upload for like, two days! But here it finally is so enjoy!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**22. Paradise Found…**

Sugoroku had been completely honest when he had told Leo that he had never noticed girls before in any way other than as another person with which to talk.

He had been, in fact, too busy with school during the early years of his adolescence to notice that things had changed about him. His repressed outside life had even been harsh enough during that time, to also add to his lack of awareness about the opposite sex, and so he had managed to get through what can be a difficult time for some boys, with nothing more than the occasional loud voiced release of a little pent up anger. It was not that Sugoroku did not have the ability to be attracted to girls. He had just never had leisure time enough to notice that calling. He had been too busy just trying to survive.

For someone like Leo, it was an astonishing and unheard of thing for a boy at the height of puberty to feel no compulsion towards attraction for girls. For Sugoroku, it seemed unthinkable that he could ever be so stuck on them that he could think of nothing else. For both, the opposite was a total enigma.

What was clear to both however, was that Sugoroku was going to have to start thinking about them in a slightly different way if he was going to be able to deal with them in any effective manner, though for Leo it was about actually getting a girl. For Sugoroku it was about being able to understand them enough to ignore their presence when he was playing a game so they would not remain a distraction.

To this end, Leo took Sugoroku out the very next day and the two cased about the base hospital, watching the self-confident American men try to get the attention of the knowledgeable young American ladies that served as nurses.

Leo explained every positive and every negative of the performances and Sugoroku, in innocent but rapt attention, memorized every detail that was noted to him as if it was a lesson on warfare. And to some extent for him, it was. He refused to allow himself to be so distracted by a woman ever again and he was studying their behavior as if it were a lesson in school to prepare himself for a test.

The only downside to this education, was that in his zeal to know how to deal with girls, he had never thought that there could be ways other than Leo's, and when it seemed that Leo's advice landed the men more girls than not, well, what could a sixteen year old with no prior experience with girls think? Especially, when he saw first hand how Leo went about his…'work'.

They had been watching a fellow Pemberton crew member try to get friendly with a red headed young woman unsuccessfully for almost 5 minutes before the exasperated man had given up and left the woman alone to giggle with several other girls at the man's poor attempts.

Leo's advice had been, "If you're not sure how she's going to react, if she's given no prior notice to you before hand, then never attempt to get her attention when there are others around. This way she doesn't have a pack or peer pressure to give her stability. It also means that you only have to impress her and not all the other girls as well. For some girls, if their friends don't like you, she won't let herself like you. Keep it one on one and its all about her. Here, watch this."

To prove his point, Leo waited until the young woman's friends had left before he began to approach casually, as if he were not really heading her way at all. He started to pass her and then glanced her way once, twice, then a third time, before he slowed his walk and seemed to decide to head back to her.

The woman had noticed every time that Leo looked back and Sugoroku was amazed at the difference in her behavior. Leo and the other crewman had been quite similar in build and general looks, and Leo would not have argued that the other fellow was slightly 'sweeter' looking in the face. But as Leo had stated, his presentation was dramatically different and so received a completely different reaction from the woman.

Where before the red head had been too casual and flippant about the other crewman's approach and interest, she was now showing a coy timidity with soft, almost embarrassed smiles at Leo's feigned 'sort of interest'. She peered about as they talked and did indeed seem to Sugoroku as if she were looking for the other girls to come and give her support or help her make a decision. Leo was calm, cool, and acted as if she were doing nothing out of the ordinary. He was graciously polite, and the longer he stayed with her, the less she checked about and the more she gazed at Leo.

She giggled in shyness at his obvious overtures and talked openly to him for almost fifteen minutes before she stood up slowly and started to walk away with a glance back. Leo held his spot and watched until she was just around a corner before he trotted quickly back to Sugoroku with a grin and eyes shining.

"See anything different?"

Sugoroku shook his head in amazement, "Everything!"

"Good. Remember, play it cool, suave, but respectful. They really go for that. Now if you'll excuse me. I need to do a little follow up."

Sugoroku stared blankly, not understanding for a moment what Leo meant.

"Huh?"

"You might want to head on back to the ship or find something to do. It might be a bit before I'm free again," Leo explained with a slick smile and wink.

Sugoroku could only nod as his friend took off to follow the young woman.

Heeding Leo's suggestion, Sugoroku took a short walk and upon finding a bench in the park beside the hospital, he sat looking out at the crystal waters of the harbor.

In a way, he reasoned, it was somewhat like a game. Playing your skills and talents to the right level to get a lady's attention was just as important as any good card playing instinct was to poker. Though why a man would want to waste so much time playing such a confusing and distracting game Sugoroku could not yet reason. He was definitely sure he was missing something there that the older men obviously weren't.

"Hi there," suddenly came a voice to his right.

Sugoroku turned to see a dark haired girl, no more than perhaps his age at 15 or 16, standing at the edge of the bench, a pleasant look on her inquiring face. A waist long, dark brown ponytail hung at her back, and her long bangs partially hid a pair of dark wide eyes.

"I thought I knew all the kids on the base, but I've never seen you here before," she said, "When did you come in?"

"Two days ago," answered Sugoroku.

The girl sat on the bench with a thoughtful expression.

"Hmm. The only things that came in two days ago were all military ships. You came in on one of the Battleships?"

"No, a destroyer."

"You came in on a destroyer? Neat! You must have known someone high up then. There's not a lot of room on a destroyer for passengers so they don't normally carry anyone other than officers. So are you staying here?"

Sugoroku shook his head, rather curious over the casual conversation the girl seemed to set up so easily with a complete stranger.

"No. I'm on my way to America."

"Really? That's really something. It's a shame you can't stay though. We don't get a lot of new kids around often. Anyone new is a plus here. So you're Japanese right?"

Sugoroku gave a wry smirk.

"Is itthat obvious?" he asked in humored sarcasm.

The girl laughed at him.

"Funny to boot. Ya know, you don't act Japanese."

Sugoroku blinked in curiosity.

"I don't?"

"No. The Japanese people on some of the plantations are so serious. You act more like any old ordinary American kid."

"I do? Just out of curiosity then, how do you think a Japanese boy should act?"

"I don't know…I guess, just different."

The girl flushed slightly, realizing the position she'd put herself in.

"I didn't mean to say you were odd or anything…I mean, that you were supposed to act a certain way…oh, stupid me again. Open mouth, insert foot. Sorry, I tend to shoot off at the mouth before I think things through fully. I really didn't mean to imply you had to be a certain way just because of where you're from. I'm really sorry."

Sugoroku smiled at the girl feeling just a little bad for her.

"Its alright.I'm sure youweren't trying to hurt my feelings or anything. You were just comparing me to what you knew. Besides, I already know I'm not normal, so, no harm done."

The girl perked up immediately though her eyes clearly wondered if he were kidding about the "not being normal" part.

"Trying to be funny again?" she asked.

"Sugoroku grinned easily, "I didn't think I was trying."

The girl laughed again.

"My names Loni. What's yours?"

"Sugoroku."

"Its nice to meet you Sugoroku. So if you've only been here two days, you haven't seen much of the island then?"

"No. Most of my friends are busy painting the ship and making a few repairs. I had a chance to play some poker the other day, but that got a little interrupted."

The girl's eyes widened in surprise.

"You play poker? How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen? And you play poker? Geez! My dad won't even let me in the room when his friends come over to play in our house! So what do you do for fun…besides play poker?"

Sugoroku shrugged.

"Play chess?"

Loni gave Sugoroku a disbelieving look.

"Do you even know how to be a kid?"

Loni quickly followed the question by smacking her hand across her mouth with wide, apologetic eyes.

"Oops. Sorry. Did it again. I didn't mean to blurt out like that."

The young man looked at the girl in forgiveness.

"Its alright. I just do different things, that's all."

Curiosity took over just then, and feeling a certain amount of comfort for the girl's close age and her open nature, he found himself wondering what an American child such as herself would spend their time doing. So, he asked.

"What do you do for fun?"

Loni brightened again immediately.

"I hang out with my friends, go to school, go exploring the island…just kid stuff. I try not be serious if I don't have to be."

'Ah,' thought Sugoroku. 'So 'kid stuff' for an American is really no different then what I had done in my own homeland when I was younger and had such time to do so.'

The only difference he could see was that he had been much younger when he had been forced to give it up for his schooling and he had never really at any point thought that he was 'exploring' the city in which he had lived. He couldn't imagine that after living in one spot for so long he would ever be 'exploring' it. What then was there to look into for this girl who lived here?

"You explore the island?"

"Oh sure. All the time. Its so beautiful. Sometimes I just spend the day looking at the fish in coral coves, sometimes I hike the mountain trails or go swimming in the fresh water pools…it just depends on my mood. My favorite thing though, is going to the other side of the island and watching the dolphins and whales."

Loni smiled mischievously, "My dad hates when I do that. He gets so red when he finds out and he grounds me for a week."

Sugoroku grinned at her. He could well imagine a father being mad at such an adventurous daughter.

"He says any good girl shouldn't go flitting about the island like that. I think he just worries too much. I know half the people on the island as well as every trail on it, so I don't see what the big deal is. Hey! I can show you around if you want. There's some really neat places on the island you have to see."

The girl's enthusiasm was infectious and before he knew it, Sugoroku had said yes to her invitation.

"Come on then," she quipped cheerfully as she stood up and started away down the walk, "There's no time to waste. There's too much island and too little time for you to see everything, so lets go!"

Sugoroku quickly followed his guide. She was definitely different by his standards. She was just as open as any other American person he had met so far and she seemed to live only in the moment, for the moment. She always appeared to be happy and on the rare occasion when she wasn't, she seemed to bounce right out of it in a heartbeat. Compared to Sugoroku, she was truly a kid in action and thought. To her though, Sugoroku was like an old man who had never had a childhood.

And to some degree that would have been true. His life had been such that Sugoroku had simply jumped from young childhood to adulthood with no gradual sliding into it. It had been an abrupt change when he had started his military school, and had been set to work both challenging himself and those he learned with. He had not had the chance to make a fool of himself with immature adventures, or truly get into childish trouble, other than when he had been chased off the docks by disgruntled losers of games.

Loni however, was living out her childhood fully with her daring life. She had not known hardship or constant discrimination and it showed by her easy manner and casual air. She had been raised with freedom to come and go and make choices liberally, and it was a most unique thing for Sugoroku to see a young person his own age acting this way.

It was almost confusing. Having been spending so much time with older men, he was more or less modeling some of his style after them. Now, here he was, seeing the way another young person from another country lived, and it was so unexpected. Having two such poles to compare, he had to wonder…who was he supposed to be? Was he still a kid, or was he an adult?

Once on the main road along the outside of the base, Loni flagged down a passing truck full of empty crates and greeted the driver.

"Hi Onuha! Heading back in?"

The chunky black haired Hawaiian nodded with a smile.

"You know I am Loni."

"Great! Can we get a lift?"

The man gave her a slightly wary look, "Will I be getting in trouble from your father again for this?"

"I won't tell him if you won't. Besides, I'm not by myself this time. My friend Sugoroku is coming along."

Onuha studied Sugoroku for a moment before he smiled.

"Alright, hop on in. But if you get caught Loni, I had nothing to do with it, okay?"

"You got it. Come on Sugoroku! Hop on up in the back."

Sugoroku followed the girl into the back of the truck and after moving a few crates aside, he leaned back against the wooden side rails. As the truck started to ramble on to the inland, Loni played the part of guide exceptionally well, expertly calling attention to each detail and setting worthy of notice.

The island of Oahu is formed by two distinct mountain ranges...the Koolau Range in the east and the Waianae Range in the west. The valley between these two mountain ranges consists of a fertile, rolling plain which easily supports many sugar and pineapple plantations. It is an open area which finds itself more than occasionally a little extra wet from the water that inundates it due to the often heavy rains that are deflected into the valley from the crevices that line the sides of the mountains.

These they passed through almost to the end until they were let off by an area known as Waimea. In this valley there could be found monstrous plants that towered over Sugoroku as easily as any city building, ceremonial cliffs from which Hawaiian men would plummet in 40-50 foot dives into deep pools of crystal clear water, and a beautiful sparkling waterfall. Waimea beach was just minutes away, and there Sugoroku enjoyed watching the last of the seasonal surf boarders try to unsuccessfully keep to the top of the dying winter waves.

From there they hopped another truck to the North Shore beaches. Almost blinded by the dazzling white sand, they spent an hour walking along in the surf in bare feet before Loni started a water fight in which the two stomped the water, causing it to jump up at the other. Loni, having had far more practice at it than Sugoroku, won easily and it was half an hour before Sugoroku was dry enough for them to move on.

Kaena Point came next and this rough western most strip of land was dry enough that large cacti grew in abundance. The long peninsula of land that formedthe Point was well controlled by numerous, very water resistant, volcanic dikes from the Waianae volcano that slowed the erosion of this part of the island. Upon climbing on the innner rock formations, Sugoroku found the edges of the rockcraggy and sharp and while Loni seemed as adept as a red squirrelhopping from one strip of rock to the next, poor Sugoroku could hardly stand straight even once he found comfortable footingas he had no interest infalling and slicing himself on the razor sharp volcanic rock.

Another hitched ride found them down along the western side of Oahu, the leeward side of the Waianae Range. Being much drier than the rest of Oahu, this area sits in a rain shadow with the mountains edges coming right out from the ocean's edge. With this came a different variety of plants and animals along with a craggy side of the mountains from the old Waianae volcano. A little further on, they paused to look up towards the center of the old Waianae volcano, to see the many old lava flows that dipped eastward from landslides in the past. Here Loni challenged Sugoroku to a short climb on the grass covered dikes that formed beside the old lave flows. Once again Loni had the advantage of having lived with these natural wonders, but by this point Sugoroku hadn't even cared. He was, for the first time, in a long time, having a truly relaxing form of fun, and without the stress of having to concentrate on performing, he found himself smiling, feeling so much more at ease and happy in a way he had not known since before he was twelve.

As the day drew closed, Loni and Sugoroku caught one more ride and just before sunset, found themselves once more on the basewalking the streets throughHickam Housing.

"So what do you think of the island so far?" the girl asked, her eyes sparkling in obvious expectant praise for the island she loved.

"I think its very beautiful, but then again, I grew up in a city, so I don't think my opinion can matter for much."

Loni laughed.

"Sure it can. We're all entitled to one after all. And just think, you haven't even seen the other side of the island yet."

"Maybe. You are lucky though, to live here. You really like it here, don't you?"

Loni nodded enthusiastically.

"I love it! I couldn't imagine ever leaving or having to live anywhere else. Well, I'd like to have a chance to check out the other islands a little more, but I'd still live here."

Sugoroku was quite for a moment in thought, before he asked, "Have you always lived on the island?"

"All my life."

"Then you were here, when, well…"

"The attack? Yes, I was here. I was twelve. It was a crazy thing. One moment I'm sleeping in late, and the next my dad is dragging me into the basement. He wouldn't let my mom and me out until four hours after it was all done and they finally had proof that no one else was coming."

"And you don't mind me, even knowing what my homeland did?"

She gave him a disbelieving look.

"Why would I? Its not as if you ordered the attack yourself. You weren't flying in those planes. Its not fair of me to hold you responsible for what others of your country did. If I did, I wouldn't have even bothered talking to you in the first place."

Loni stepped up to the front walk of a trim little house and sat on the front steps, and Sugoroku followed suit.

"So, why the interest in what people think of you just because you're Japanese?"

Sugoroku looked down sheepishly.

"I've never been anywhere outside of Japan before and I suppose I'm a little nervous about what people will think of me. I'm going to a huge country that fought against mine and…I'm not sure what will happen. I know why I'm going and what I want to do, but…"

"If you're still that confused, why go? You could stay here. It would be great having someone new around for a change."

Sugoroku looked at Loni and smiled.

"Thank you, but I do have to go. I may not be sure of a lot of things, but I am sure of that. I guess I'll just have to deal with whatever comes along when it does."

Loni put a hand on Sugoroku's arm with a nod, "I bet you'll do great too. You'll take the US by storm."

Sugoroku grinned at Loni broadly and the girl returned the grin, but a moment later, something changed. It was not then - nor would it be for some time - clear to him exactly what it was that had changed, but their amused smiles had, in the space of only seconds, turned into a soft continuous gaze. It didn't seem like anything major at first, but when Loni turned slightly shy and gave a small sweet smile, Sugoroku suddenly realized that something was most assuredly happening. A moment later, the world in his mind changed, and not understanding a bit about it except that he had to do it, he leaned toward Loni…and kissed her.

It was nothing fancy. What first kiss is? But it was enough.

Enough to know that he had just stepped into an entirely new world. Unfortunately, for him there was no more to be discovered, for just a second later, the front door suddenly opened, and Loni's father stepped out as he said loudly, "Loni where are on earth have you bee…"

Sugoroku pulled back in surprise and took enough of a look at the man to know that this was not a good situation to be caught in.

"Uh oh," he heard Loni whisper, before she said quickly, "Run Sugoroku!" shoving him off the step and into action.

He didn't even question it. He'd seen the look in the man's eye and knew that running was probably the best choice, especially if he wanted to live to see tomorrow! So he took off running as Loni had suggested, the girl's father close on his heels.

From behind him he heard Loni call out loudly, "Run Sugoroku! Hurry! Don't let him catch you!"

His heart pounding, his legs moving faster than he thought they could, Sugoroku felt a strange excitement build within him and he couldn't help but grin in wonder at it as he ran.

Yes, something had definitely happened that evening and Sugoroku fully admitted that it had been more than just a little intriguing.

It had in fact, been absolutely incredible.

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Next Chapter: New Sides Seen…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	23. Part 2, Chapter 23: New Sides Seen

**Updates** ... I have to be honest. I've been suffering from writers block the last few weeks. Not for ideas mind you, I've got a seven page outline with all the basics and extras I'd like to eventually work in...but as for bringing them about to word? Its been a real pain. My stock of chapters done in advance is slowly dwindling down and I've been trying to clear my head by doing mindless writings with the characters from the Fairly Odd Parents. It seems to be working actually. Last night was the first time in a week I could even look at T.O.M: SS without zoning just by the title. Don't worry. I haven't given up on it. This will be coming for a long time yet. Sometimes you just need a short break!

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Yes, even with Leo's early lessons, Sugoroku's honest and innocent side ruled the day in that instance. I should warn you though, that it certainly will NOT always be the case. He still has a lot of years to go through and he has his moments, I can well assure you. Gender specific roles within my timeline wasn't really a huge consideration when I first began the story, but you've definitely given me a thought about making it a bit more noticeable. I did a little cultural referencing for his mother way back when this began, but women have not been a major deal...yet. But there will be instances coming soon where I will need to do some looking in to it. Thanks for bringing up a great point to delve into. As usual I'm thrilled you continue to find my writing pleasantly enjoyable and I can't thank you enough for another awesome review.

**PyroDragon2006** ... Lucky in life, not in love...not yet at least.;-) Don't worry. He gets his chances soon enough! I actually based that scene on a personal experience. I was 14 getting my first kiss when my dad caught us and scared the living heck out of the kid. I think my dad did it more for the fun of torturing him than actually scaring him away. Of course with a father who's nickname growing up was 'King of Sick', what else could one expect!

**Ciardra** ... Some dads are just over protective like that and during that time, no dad wanted their teenage daughters to think anything about romance until they were at least like...20! Could you imagine that today? Your dad was a lucky man to be stationed in such a beautiful place. I'd love to get there myself someday and the first place I'm hitting is Pearl Harbor so I can see the memorials.

**Lady Althea** ... The ending was funny wasn't it? I loved writing it. Glad you enjoyed it.

**Moonjava** ... Welcome aboard the Sugoroku train Moonjava! Its always good to see a new reviewer stopping in to say hello. I am very pleased you like the story so far. I do aim to please! ;-) And as a couple of side notes... I see you have the soundtrack for PTO down as a favorite. You even specified the 1986 cast. My personal opinion? There is no other cast beyond the 1986 cast! LOL. I've seen PTO five times (once in London) and nothing compares with the original. I still love it and will go see it every chance I get, but there's just something about Michael Crawford and Sarah Brightman and Steve Barton that will stick with me till the end of time! Labyrinth isa wicked awesome movie ('You remind of the babe.' 'What babe?' 'The babe with the power.' 'What power?' 'The power of Voodoo' 'Who do?' 'You do.'...sorry, couldn't resist!) and it is proudly held in the front row of my DVD collection. Did you know that when they were filming the 'Magic Dance' scene, the baby they used for that scene wouldn't make any noise when Jareth looks at the baby and says 'And baby said...', so Bowie did the baby sounds himself. It's funny. I'm not a huge fan of his, but in Labyrinth...OH YEAH! So here's a heads up! I'll be reading your PTO and Laby fics very soon!

Anyways, on with the show!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**23. New Sides Seen…**

Sugoroku sat on the little chair and leaned back in it, his feet propped up on the rail of the deck. His eyes closed, his face tilted up towards the warm sun, he smiled serenely as he hummed to himself. Still stuck on replaying the previous evening, he had to admit that to some extent, Leo had definitely been hinting towards something he'd never expected to find so stimulating.

Surprisingly though, Sugoroku felt no compulsion to go back and see Loni, at least not in any personal way. Her father had certainly not scared that out of him. He just felt no more towards it. Honestly speaking, he'd gotten more from the thrill of being chased and possibly caught over the kiss, than the kiss itself, even though he admittedly enjoyed the kiss very much.

He did in passing wonder if Loni would be upset if he didn't come back, but after considering her nature, he didn't think that she would be. She was too upbeat to let it bother her for long even if it did, and he'd been very clear stating that he was definitely going to America. There was obviously no possibility that he was sticking around, so it didn't seem logical to him that she would be too settled on it.

Besides, it seemed the better thing right now to stay close to the Pemberton, rather than risk running into the possibly irate and over protective father.

So the end result of Sugoroku's first kiss was that he found it very much to his liking, but the high from possibly being caught and punished for it, had packed the bigger rush and he found it to be quite an engaging idea.

He had to wonder than if playing a card game could ever be so risky.

"I don't know Mark. Looks like a cat that's caught a canary if you ask me."

Sugoroku pulled his feet down and turned in the chair to look at Leo and Mark with a grin.

Leo grinned back.

"Ya know pal, when I suggested you go find something to do for a while, I didn't expect you to take off for the whole day. Where'd you disappear to?"

Sugoroku shrugged.

"Just getting a guided tour of the western half of the island."

Mike nodded once with a skeptical look.

"Uh huh. It wouldn't have happened to be with a sergeant's daughter would it?"

"Sergeant's daughter?"

Leo couldn't hide his grin.

"Yeah. Big angry looking guy, stands about here, lives in Housing. He was roaming the docks all morning looking for some little Japanese kid he caught kissing his daughter outside his front door last night."

Sugoroku gave a smirking half innocent look.

"Do you think he will catch him?"

"Not on board our ship," came Mark's cynical reply, then with a knowing half smile added "Can't vouch for off ship though…"

Sugoroku nodded. He'd planned on staying close by anyway. It was good to know his instincts were right on the mark…as usual.

Mark walked away then shaking his head, the smile still on his lips while Leo continued to grin. He waited until Mark was out of hearing, then ducked in low beside Sugoroku's chair.

"So what happened?" he asked excitedly.

"Nothing really. She started talking to me, seemed nice, and we just got along. She offered to show me around a little of the island. We went to a waterfall and saw some men diving into a pool at the bottom, we went to a beach on the west side, checked out a volcano and then came back. It just took most of the day."

"Not that pal. The kiss. You really kissed her?"

Sugoroku's face turned a slight shade of pink at the memory.

"It just felt like the right thing to do."

Leo laughed.

"I'll tell you what Sugoroku, when you get a lesson, you really learn it. The fact that you got some girl's dad hopping mad over it even the next morning, definitely says she certainly didn't have a problem with it."

"How do you know that?"

"Because my friend, when a man's daughter walks into a kiss with a guy willingly and tries to argue for the guy's sake, the dad gets a little scared that she's going to fall in with the wrong guy and go running off."

"So the fact that he came looking for me, means she probably tried to talk him out of wanting to kill me and it just made him want to kill me that much more?"

"Sounding like a true American, pal. Listen, I got a game for you tonight. Its in Honolulu. I pulled a few strings and got free from watch tonight. It should be a good one from what I'm hearing and they were willing to let you in after the other three games you stole out from under their locals the other day."

Loni now completely forgotten, Sugoroku was tense with interest.

"What about the last game though. The one I left?"

"No big deal. I told them you weren't feeling well and got a little sick from something you ate."

"So what time do we go?"

"Out of here by 18:30 pal. Meet me by the gang and we'll head on out."

Sugoroku nodded and as Leo walked away, the young man pulled out a deck of cards and began shuffling.

xxxxxxxxx

Though first glance might have had one considering otherwise, 1946 Honolulu was not a little town. There were homes and businesses, store fronts and commercial docks, and even an elaborate Catholic church. Though it had all the seeming of a regular city in the process of becoming a metropolis, it still somehow maintained its historical heritage with its floral and natural exotic motifs and numerous vendors of fruits and flowers. The locals and visitors walking about before the brick and concrete buildings at that 6 o'clock hour, were even rather colorfully dressed with skirts and shirts printed with large flowery patterns and bold, bright colors. In all, it had that modern sense of growth, but at the same time, still evoked the images of what tropical Hawaii truly was.

The only feature that Sugoroku could not immediately see the use for, was how some of the largest and tallest of the buildings were painted in a tri color of paint which included two shades of green and one of brown. This was an early trial of camouflage implemented shortly after the raids of 1941. Designed not to just hide but to mislead, the prime purpose was to confuse any further enemy fighter pilots from so easily pin pointing their positions during the heat of battle, and making it harder for them to find their way to particular targets or from getting away easily. Particular among these was Aloha Tower, the power station and the docks.

Once Leo had explained its use, it made very clear sense, and Sugoroku was most intrigued as he considered how truly ingenious something so simple could be. It only served to further raise his estimation at the American ability to design and successfully use new techniques that could better benefit them.

It was along the camouflaged waterfront that they came to a stop by a little warehouse numbered 15 in small numbers on the side door. Leo knocked twice and a moment later, the door was opened to reveal a rather dark interior. Wooden crates stacked 5 high and 4 deep, lined the walls and upon the lower sets of these boxes sat a large number of men, both American military and civilian, along with a reasonable portion of Hawaiians. In the cleared center of the building there sat four chairs, a table and a deck of cards.

Sugoroku grinned as his eyes sparkled. He couldn't wait to sit down and begin!

But he did have to wait. This was not just a game between four people and left at that. It turned out to be an elimination game. The elimination rounds had set pots, play times and each player needed fifty American dollars to be allowed in, but these new rules hardly mattered to the young man. A poker game was a poker game as far as he was concerned.

There were three games played before Sugoroku was even able to have his first round chance, and with little more than a bored glance around, he'd won the game with what hardly seemed like any effort at all.

His opponents had been dull and weak. Their sharpest glances looking like water beneath his even and cool countenance. They played their set bets, and from their expressions and body language it was clear to Sugoroku, that if the men could have bet less against him, they would have. It was only in a matter of fifteen minutes that each game was done, but when Sugoroku had to wait through another 12 games he was nearly itching to get back into the chair.

Leo tried to occupy the younger man, but it was absolutely no use. Sugoroku was so keyed up to play he paced when he couldn't sit still, tapped when he couldn't find relief from the pacing, and huffed repeatedly while doing either.

"You gotta' calm down pal," Leo said halfway through after taking Sugoroku outside for some air, "You can't keep doing this. You're going to drive yourself nuts. Just try to watch how they play so you'll know how to deal with them when its your turn again."

"I can deal with them just fine no matter what. Its this waiting! I want to play, not sit on the side and watch!"

"I know, but you need to ease it up somehow. You're gonna' be exhausted by your next turn. Either that or they'll kick you out for being annoying."

Sugoroku sighed distractedly as he looked back at the warehouse.

"What can I do?"

"I don't know. Try to think of something else, maybe chess moves or something. Just stop the jittering around."

"Do you ever feel like this?"

"What?"

"Excited, in a hurry…it feels like there are knots tied inside me, I just want to sit down and play again!"

Leo shook his head in exasperation. It looked like Sugoroku's edge was starting to get to him.

"Everybody does sometimes, but you've got to control it or it'll take you right over."

"What do you do then?"

"Me? Aw hell, I don't know, I…"

He paused then, and looked at his hand. In the midst of his trying to think up something to say, his hand had automatically reached into his top shirt pocket and pulled out a half pack of cigarettes. He blinked once and then looked at Sugoroku. It was worth a shot. It did work for him after all.

"Here," he said as he handed one to Sugoroku and followed by putting one between his lips. "Usually when I get worked up, I grab a smoke."

Sugoroku looked at the cigarette curiously.

"And that works for you?"

"Works for a lot of people pal. That's one reason why they're so popular."

Though not a thorough answer, it at least started to explain some of the mystery of why it seemed like every American he had met so far ended up with one sooner or later.

Leo lit Sugoroku's first and then his own, and then took a deep drag, holding it for a moment before exhaling, blowing the smoke up and out.

"See? Nothing to it. Though I should warn you, the first time or two can be…"

Sugoroku suddenly coughed loudly as his eyes widened. He had most definitely not been expecting this. The feeling of something foreign sitting in his lungs and smothering him had been a total surprise, and as he leaned over, trying to draw a clear breath, he could only think that perhaps he had done something wrong. He had been around enough second hand smoke from the other men on board the ship and breathed in his far share of it, but this was nothing like that.

Leo grinned as he thumped Sugoroku's back a few times as if the young man were choking on food rather than smoke.

"Tried to warn you. The first time or two can be a little rough till you get used to it. 'Course it probably would have been helpful if you hadn't tried to suck the whole thing down in one shot."

Finally catching a clean breath of air, Sugoroku gave Leo a skeptical look and tried to speak between a few loose coughs.

"If its this bad at first, why do you do it?"

Leo shrugged.

"My dad smoked, my friends smoke, even my mother grabbed one once in a while. I just got used to it after a little bit."

"And this really calms you?"

"For me, yeah. I don't smoke all the time. Just when I'm feeling a little stressed."

When Sugoroku was finally able to stand straight and breath again freely, he looked at the still burning cigarette in his hand, then at Leo.

If Leo had gotten over it, then he would too. It might take a few times but he was sure he would get it.

The young man put the cigarette to his lips again, and after taking a far smaller inhale than before, he held it in his mouth for a moment before daring it and letting it fall all the way in. As before, there was that strange feeling of constriction in his lungs, but it passed after a moment, and when the smoke came back out with an exhale, Sugoroku looked at Leo as he suppressed a minor tickle that urged him to cough again.

Leo nodded.

"That's the way. Just take your time and don't go over board. You don't want to be playing cards just to get cigarettes the rest of your life."

Sugoroku smirked as he thought back to his games against Richter. No, he didn't want to end up like that. He just wanted to get past that insane need for action when he had to wait so long.

Surprisingly, that one cigarette had helped at least pass a few minutes of time, and since he'd been stuck initially thinking about how strange it had felt, his impatient annoying behaviors had gone away long enough for him to get through the last few games before the next round began.

Sitting in on the first round of finals, Sugoroku was paired with three other men who gave him a far more fair run for his money. He'd had to watch a great deal more closely to each face, and each hand, to know how he should be handling the play of each turn. It went a bit tougher than the first round, but Sugoroku was very happy to have the challenge. It wasn't an easy win, but for him, that was the best kind.

Three more elimination games later, and they were finally down to the final four players. Four people out of a starting count of 72. These last four included, one hot tempered American, 2 native, rather sullen, Hawaiians, and of course, Sugoroku.

For this last game, the rules were changed to allow for no time limits, no betting limits and with the men taking turns being dealer, it was reasonably assured that it would be a fair game…in theory anyway. Sugoroku caught more than one suspicious looking play, and after refusing to place a bet or play any hand in which the player dealing had been a little shifty, they quickly realized that fair was the only way he would play.

The looks that were given around the table were cold and steely, glares almost guaranteed to peel paint, and Sugoroku felt a heated edge rise from all around him. The men at the table with him were intensely competitive and for each hand lost to Sugoroku, the three seemed to become more fierce and disagreeable.

There was a brief moment where Sugoroku wondered what kind of game Leo had gotten him into. The way everyone watched with such hungry eyes, like a group of wild dogs watching for the kill, he felt less like a card player and more like a wolf vying with three others for a leader's supremacy over a pack. It was eerie and yet there was again that odd stimulating feel to it all. Yes, a part of him questioned the motives of the men around him, but just the same, he would never have wished it away. It was as if the charge in the air made him completely assured that this was a true challenge.

The first to go was the older of the two Hawaiians. He had lost by trying to convince Sugoroku and the others that he was better than he was with some seriously aggressive bets and plays that had not panned out as he had hoped.

The younger Hawaiian was next, but unlike his native counterpart, he had not left the table in any sort of grace. He had growled and shoved against the table as he stood, pushing it just shy of hitting Sugoroku in the ribs. He cursed several times in his native language and Sugoroku rolled his eyes at the poor sportsmanship. There was really no need for it in his book. It didn't get you anywhere and didn't help you win, so what point was there in acting badly?

This left the American, but unlike any American Sugoroku had thus met, this man was not only not military, he harbored no patience or leniency, win or lose. A foul tempered person, this man had a violent past and was in Hawaii simply because the United States no longer afforded him a place to hide in true safety. Sugoroku of course had no clue, and when he, as dealer, beat the man in a decisive last hand, he had no idea of the danger he was about to step into when his own youthful, self assured, American fed cockiness flashed forward. It came about only moments after the game had ended.

Sugoroku had won his first, what one could call major stakes, with a total win of $3,600. Certainly not a tiny sum for that era. Enough in fact to keep a man on the run well fed and housed, not to mention anonymous, for some time.

The American was not a happy man over the lose of the money he needed, and for a long moment was absolutely silent as Sugoroku gathered up his winnings and standing, moved away from the table a few feet to join Leo who stood with a grin.

Leo was just in the act of patting Sugoroku on the back over his win, when the beaten opponent moved up behind Sugoroku and said, "That wasn't a fair game. You cheated."

Sugoroku turned and stared up at the man with a cross look.

"I don't cheat," he said simply, "and I refuse to play others who do."

"Hold on one minute," interrupted the warehouse owner who had organized the games, "How do you think he cheated?"

"The cards, when he was shuffling. He did something with them. He arranged them."

Sugoroku creased his brows as he dipped his head in challenge. He couldn't believe he had been accused of something that he, unlike any of the others, did not do at anytime during the game.

"I don't need to cheat," he said softly with an edge.

The man stepped closer.

"And I say you did."

"Okay," again interrupted the warehouse owner, "Did anyone see the boy doing anything wrong?"

The men around could not say that they had and while this pleased Sugoroku, it did not appease the other man the least little bit.

Sugoroku smirked.

"There. You see. No one else saw anything."

"I saw it."

Sugoroku pulled out his own deck of cards from his pocket and held them before the man briefly.

"This," he began as he shuffled the deck casually, "is how I shuffled during the game. If I had been cheating, I would have shuffled like this."

At that, Sugoroku changed his shuffling to produce a combination of over obvious shifts and card holds that the American himself had tried early on when Sugoroku refused to bet or play.

The man's face turned purple, knowing exactly what the younger man was calling attention too, and without another word he swung at Sugoroku, catching him across the left side of his face and nose.

Sugoroku could not even begin to conceive of either such brute force or the pain it elicited. Other than when he had shouldered the man that had shoved his father, Sugoroku had never before raised a hand to anyone. He certainly had not come from a place or society where this was the standard, and he'd been caught so off guard, he could do nothing except fall back as sharp pain slammed through his head. As he hit the floor, he heard a shout above him, and there was suddenly the strange sound of something solid hitting something just a bit softer, but even more odd, was the fact that the sounds seemed to be coming not just from above him, but all around him.

Holding his bleeding nose tenderly, he slowly tried to shift and opened one eye to peer out. What he saw was a complete and utter melee. The powder keg of animosity between the players, and even some of the observers, had finally exploded, and very nearly every man present had someone to occupy their fists.

Sugoroku watched in shocked awe at the display. Even with his own pain and bloodied shirt, he was fascinated by the route these men took, opting for such meaningless violence, even after being proven wrong. He could not imagine falling into such a state of illogical behavior.

But perhaps that was the whole point. That it wasn't logical. These men were not in any way like him. They didn't organize their world. They didn't seek the most satisfying trails to follow. They went with the easiest. They didn't challenge themselves or try to expand their minds and abilities. They only did what they needed to and were content to ride it out in a permanent state of limbo. When they were pushed beyond what they saw as their chosen path, they didn't even attempt to understand it. They lashed out at it and here was proof that it was in violence and anger. His earlier feeling, that he was surrounded by animals rather than men, had been remarkably well analogized, and as he looked about in contempt at the confusion, he knew then the answer to his question from the previous day…'Was he a kid…or a man.'

His answer?

He was only himself.

To him, boyhood was living the life of another, following rules and set expectations. He refused to go back to that. Looking at manhood, he found he did not want to be one of them if it meant falling to this level of chaos.

Sugoroku watched as a fierce eyed, wickedly smiling, Leo sent the American who had hit him flying into a crate.

He could still consider Leo his friend, but he knew that there would be a difference.

There would _always_ be a difference.

Beneath the exterior of that which was called man, there was a volatile creature ready to jump at the chance, ready to assume supremacy through fists rather then seek alternatives. This primitive calling to mastery through physical domination was not within Sugoroku's nature and he refused to allow it to be. He saw nothing in it for him but a detraction of his mental capabilities. He was keen and intelligent, thoughtful and logical. That was who he was and who he would be.

He would be who he wanted to be. He would make his own decisions. He would follow his own thoughts and instincts. No one would tell him who he should be and how he should act any longer, nor would he ever let societal expectations dictate his being.

Sugoroku was unlike anyone he had ever known and no amount of traveling and culture emulation would change that. But it didn't frighten him to think it in the least. Rather, he embraced the idea, and found the weight of his earlier questions lifted off his shoulders, a new freeness from his previous misplaced standing filling him.

What did it matter if he was a kid or a man?

He was himself, and that was all he would ever need to be.

* * *

Next Chapter: The Principles of Self Defense…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	24. P2, Ch24: The Principles of Self Defense

**Updates** ... Ahhh summer. Is there anything better? Two and a half months of fun and sun...and blistering heat waves. Lol. Anyways hope you all have a good one. I finally have free weekends, for more typing of TOM:SS course, now that my dog is done showing for a few months. She's shedding all her lovely undercoat and looks like she's half the dog she's supposed to be!

**PyroDragon2006** ... I agree that finding trouble is VERY hereditary. So is weirdness. My dad and I are two peas in a pod with that one! Sugoroku will definitely have that effect on people as he continues to grow and progress through the years. I can't tell you everything, but believe me, that wouldn't be the last brawl he manages to get mixed up in!

**Ciardra** ... Thankfully, he didn't have a broken nose. But bruises do abound. I hated having to hurt him at all, but you know what they say...we always hurt the ones we love. Besides, it was a great catalyst for a major evolution to his future personality. Actually, he didn't like it either, but he eventually forgave me since it really does have a purpose.

**Lady Althea** ... Glad you liked it. Especially the end. I worked long and hard on that particular portion trying to get it just right.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Thank you so much for the fab review! You always seem to see just what I'm trying to go for even when I can't get the right words to pin it down flat. That last chapter is a very (in my mind anyway) pivotal point for him as a developing character. It will help lend a lot to the man he will become in the future. Yes, some card players out there DO NOT tolerate losing well. The cigarette scene is practically right from personal experience. I tried one (at about 16 years) and thought I was going to choke to death. Never touched another one afterward. Bleck! However I do admit to a weird liking for cherry tobacco pipe smoke. I have no idea why, but I smell that and I just float away. My dad smoked a pipe when I was little so I'm not sure if its a regressive thing or what. Oh...I had a moral in there somewhere? COOL! LOL. Just kidding. I knew it was there. Really! I do try to slip some 'edjamacation' in there from time to time as well as a good moral or two. ;)

As usual, I thank you all for being such wonderful, consistent readers and reviewers. Honestly, this story would be nothing without you all and your encouragement. It helps me want to keep on writing when I know that there really are people like you all that follow along and actually make my effort worth it.

Now, forward all! To muse, to laugh, to cry...to read.

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**24. The Principles of Self Defense…**

Sugoroku carefully touched the left side off his face, fingering the large purple bruise that had formed over night. It hurt like hell, but he knew he was quite lucky he hadn't been hurt any worse. The opponent who had punched him the night before had been tackled and soundly decked more than once by Leo, and to hear his friend crow about it to those that it was safe to tell, made Sugoroku more nauseous than the continuing pain of his bruised cheek and puffed nose.

Really! What was so wonderful about beating someone up? Even if they had punched him first! It was nothing to be proud of. Leo willingly had stooped down to the level of some none thinking ape or wild animal. What was the glory in that?

He was of course, grateful that Leo had stepped in and prevented him from getting anymore hit than he had already been, but it still did not, in his mind, justify acting like he had saved the world. He could excuse the man for being excited for grabbing Sugoroku and getting them both out of there in time to avoid being arrested like most of the others. That he could see and was definitely fine with. But being thrilled for being violent? That just did not sit with the young man. War was one thing. Nonsensical violence was completely different.

When Mark had finally caught wind of the story, he sought Sugoroku out and proceeded to have his say whether Sugoroku wanted to hear it or not.

"Sugoroku, I know you're young and eager to get into the world, but you need to be more careful. You're pushing the edge here and I get this feeling that if you push too much more, you're going to fall over it and not be able to get back."

Sugoroku had trouble initially meeting Mark's eye, the slightest bit of remorse for the whole sordid affair and Mark's worry over it making Sugoroku feel bad that he had gone at all.

"I was fine, Mark. Really. I know that I over stepped it, but I'll be more careful the next time."

"Next time? What about all the time? Look kid, you really have to start considering more than just the next day if you want to be able to last. You have pals and buddies now that'll hang with you sure, but looking after you? That's your job. It will always be your job and it will always be your first principle line of self defense. No one else can take that on. I've tried for the little time I've known you to help you stay afloat, but I can't do that anymore because in one day I won't be around to."

Pale lavender eyes went wide.

"What do you mean, you won't be around in one day?"

Mark gave Sugoroku an almost sorry look.

"The ship leaves for San Diego in one day, Sugoroku. But I won't be on it when you get there. My tour of duty is up tomorrow, and I'm staying here."

"But I thought that you would be a part of the chess games. You were the one who got me started."

Mark shook his head.

"Sorry kid. Look, people come and go Sugoroku. Sometimes for a day, sometimes for a year or even more. Some of those people will affect just your day, while others will affect your life. How you look at those people that pass through, will determine how you are affected by them. I've known you for a year. Shorter than any other person I've ever called friend. But of all those friends, you have affected me more than anyone else ever has. You have always challenged the norm…the routine. You've taken every opportunity that passed your way with confidence and were always willing to look at the new side and learn from it. Seeing you live that life has taught me to stop settling for what is offered and reach for more. I've learned to question what the end is perceived as and never stop trying to challenge myself…to think and believe that there can always be better. I'm staying here for a while, Sugoroku, because it is a new place and its different. I'm going to sit and think of who I am, where I'm going to, and what more there is for me. Once I'm as clear on my road as you are to yours, then I'll move on. If that's what I have to do. You, in the meantime, have to be more careful. Leo is good guy and I know he's becoming a close friend to you, but he doesn't always think about the consequences. He takes risks that can be just down right wrong and if he ever gets caught, he's in for major problems. I'm not saying you shouldn't associate with him or be his friend. Just don't rely on him to direct you, that's all. It has to be you, because in the end, it may windup that its all you've got."

Sugoroku nodded. He had made that very decision the other night, but it helped to hear it from another voice. Particularly by one who wasn't as obviously tainted by the need for violence.

"I'll make my own choices. I don't want to let anyone tell me who I am or who I should be. I just want to follow my own path and be true to it. Like you."

"No," disagreed Mark as he shook his head, "Not like me. Like you. Don't be that because of or for me. Its either for you, or nothing at all."

"I understand," replied Sugoroku.

"Good. Now I'm going to make a suggestion. You don't have to follow it, but you might consider it for the future. Get Leo and the others to show you how to protect yourself a little," Mark grinned. "At least so you can better avoid any more punches to the face."

Sugoroku looked away sheepishly.

"I never thought he would do that."

"Unfortunately, they're out there kid. Offence and defense is all about a fist with that type. Standing up to that kind of guy with an attitude isn't really a bad thing, but it helps to be prepared for that kind of response. Heck, I'd have challenged him too if he said I cheated, but the difference is that I would have seen it coming and been ready for it."

"So that kind of self defense is alright to you as well?"

"Only as much as I need to keep myself safe. Its kind of like those card tricks Vick showed you. You don't use them against people, but you know them so you can spot them in case they're used against you."

When put that way, learning how to protect himself did sound like a good idea.

Sugoroku touched the bruise on his face with a grimace. Yes, it was a very good idea. Even if only to avoid further pain.

"I think it might be a good thing to know. I wish you would be here to show me though."

"So do I Sugoroku, but I'm not worried about it. You're a quick enough student so you'll have no trouble picking up anything those characters can teach you, though I might recommend that you try to make sure you're not learning the wrong things as well. Especially since they have more experience at it than I do."

Sugoroku smirked. He supposed Mark was right about that. Mark seemed like too nice of a guy to get so easily drawn into a bad situation. But then again, so had Leo.

The image of a rather pleased, exultant, and ferocious Leo from the other night flashed into his head, and he knew that to some extent, Mark was right. Leo was careless and just like every other man there, he had been caught in the hype of the competition. The edge he had displayed during their cigarette break was proof of it. What had been mistaken as a frustration for the nervous behavior Sugoroku was displaying, was really his own blood running high with the growing tension of the men in the warehouse.

He'd been just as keyed up for a fight as any other man there and Sugoroku was now sure that it wasn't a completely loyal response to a friend getting punched in the face. He'd been ready for a fight all along, and when the American had hit Sugoroku, well, Leo had been given his go ahead and got it started.

It was something Sugoroku understood he was going to have to watch. Leo might not truly intend for Sugoroku to get hurt, but all the same, he was going to have to look deeper at things for himself. He would have to protect himself from Leo and others who might only think of themselves first, even if only unintentionally, to avoid getting caught in their mistakes. It was essentially another principle of defense. Try to avoid getting so drawn to someone he didn't know fully, that they would be in a position to hurt you even if unknowingly.

"Look, I still have to get my stuff together and finish out my last full day, but I'll catch up to you later, alright?" said Mark after a few moments of quiet.

Sugoroku nodded and after Mark left, he stood by the rail and looked out over the sparkling water solemnly.

Another friend come and gone, he thought. It didn't seem fair that the best ones didn't get to stick around. Was this going to be his lot with people? Always passing through? Here today, gone tomorrow?

Then again, maybe he was the one passing through their lives. Maybe that was part of his role in life. Meet them, have an impact on them and then move on… Was that fair to them? Who could say. All he could do was try his best to understand them, play his part the best he could, and hope they did too so both sides got something good from it.

But what was his part really? What did he have to offer to those that he met? Well, he knew he had his open attitude towards new people and new ways of doing things. He accepted offered friendship easily and was happy to give it back. There was a certain amount of loyalty towards those he called friend and he was honest and fair almost to a fault. These were common place attributes that most people he had met so far had displayed as well. Hardly life changing in his opinion.

One of the only obvious major differences he could see, was his determination to go into any game with everything he had. He was willing to give any man who could be a challenge to him the chance to do so, and give every piece of his heart and mind to the match. He gave them everything he himself wanted from it and would not give less. Was that then his one uniquly defining trait? That willingness to throw himself into anything he did no matter who it was that sat across from him coupled with that ability to automatically give respect to that opponent?

It almost seemed a reasonable enough notion. It could be a changing experience with the right person, though he hardly thought that he'd had much of an effect on Richter.

Mark had mentioned that he believed Sugoroku was clear on his path and that he wanted to be as clear on his, but this confused him even more than his first question. He was in no way completely sure of his path. All he knew was that he felt he had to go to America…that his future awaited him there. He even admitted his own nervousness to it. So what did Mark really see in him that could so suddenly define where his next step would be?

For all his insight, for all his logical placing of the world in which he lived, he just could not understand it, so, he left it. Mark knew something he needed, something that made him ready to confidently move on in a new way. And that, Sugoroku found, really mattered more to him than anything else. His friend was content and even pleased, and that would be enough for him to know at this point.

xxxxxxxxx

The following day, was the last full day at Pearl Harbor for the Pemberton. There was a flurry of activity as men scurried about throughout the day, finishing the loading of food and drink supplies, machinery and other necessities. Though it occupied him for much of the day to watch the men work, Sugoroku's mind was settled on the thought that today was the last day he would get to see Mark before they each went their own way. Today he would have to say goodbye.

He didn't look forward to it. As had Captain Hanaka before him, Mark had had an unmistakable effect on Sugoroku and so added to the changes of his life. He had been the first to show Sugoroku open friendship and cultural interest when he encouraged Sugoroku to come over that first day on the Tokyo docks. He had helped show him what chess was. Though an easier game than what he had been used to, it was an open sharing of ideals and a foreign pastime. Mark had shown him immediate respect and gratitude for Sugoroku's returning of the offered friendship and willingness to help them. He had shown him immeasurable patience as he and Thomas had taught Sugoroku how to speak and even read English. He had helped teach Sugoroku Poker, but even more, had helped him think differently about a difficult challenge. If at first you don't succeed, try, try again. Just because he didn't initially understand why the outcome came as it did, it didn't mean he should give up. He now understand that failure didn't always mean exactly that. Sometimes things just had to be looked at from a different angle.

These would be a part of the legacy that Mark had passed on through his friendship with Sugoroku.

Because Mark was taking his leave in Hawaii rather than wait until the ship's return to the US, a small Order of Honorary Discharge ceremony was held late that afternoon just in front of the gang plank. With Leo, Squawk, and more than twenty other men in attendance, Admiral Faraday, flanked by the officer of the watch, as well as his senior crew members, read the order that granted Mark his right to an honorable discharge. Sugoroku, not being allowed to stand with the navy men, stood on the dock by the bottom of the gang plank and watched as his friend said his goodbyes to his now former commanding officers and shipmates. Again, that familiar feeling of sadness tugged at Sugoroku's heart as Mark turned and began his walk down and off the ship that had been his home for almost four years.

For a brief moment, Sugoroku could not help but wonder if perhaps his definition of self defense principle number two, had to be changed to include avoiding the pain of a friend leaving.

Mark stopped before Sugoroku and smiled gently.

"Don't look so sad kid. It isn't like you're losing your best friend."

Sugoroku looked down as he said, "It feels like it."

Mark put his hand on Sugoroku's shoulder.

"You know, a part of me is a little pleased that you think that much of me that you'd be this sad to see me go. But I wouldn't consider myself the best friend you've ever had. Maybe a good friend, but not really the best. You have too much life to live to say I was at the top. You're going to know a lot of people in your years and I'm sure you're going to meet more than a few that top me without even trying."

"Its hard to imagine."

"Maybe now, but give it time. What I'd really like though, is for you to be happy for me. I belong to myself again. I'm my own man. I get to leave and start doing the things I've been wanting to do, and discover the things that I didn't even consider I could do, and its all my own choice."

Mark winked as he pointed to himself with a thumb theatrically, "No one is bossing this guy around anymore."

Sugoroku couldn't help but smile for a moment, before pulling a box out of his new shirt's top pocket and handing it to Mark.

"What's this?" asked Mark as he looked at the box of cards.

"It's the deck of cards I beat Richter with. I want to give them to you to remember me by."

Mark blinked once as he stared at Sugoroku for a long moment.

"I can't take those," he said at last. "That was your game. You should keep those to remember it."

Sugoroku shook his head.

"I won't forget. Its because of you that I was able to win. You convinced me to try again even after I failed twice before. You put your faith in me, and not only set me in the right direction with Vick, but convinced everyone else they could believe in me too. I've really learned a lot from you and I just wanted to say thank you with this. Its all I really have right now that actually means something, and I really want you to have it."

Mark sighed before taking the cards.

"Alright," he began as he opened the box up and pulled a card out, "I'll make a deal with you. I'll keep the rest of the deck, but you keep this one card, that way, we both have something to remember it by."

"But it won't be a complete deck anymore."

The older man grinned.

"It will be in here," he said as he pointed at his heart.

Sugoroku studied Mark for a second, before he took the card and nodded with a small smile.

"Good. Now its time for me to figure out what I'm doing next and get out of here. Its been great having the chance to know you Sugoroku."

Mark held out his hand and Sugoroku took it. They shook once.

"Good luck Sugoroku."

"You too Mark."

With that, Mark turned and started to walk away.

Looking down at the card Mark had given him, Sugoroku stared at the King of Hearts. He understood in an instant the significance of the card he had been given. It had not just been pulled. It had been chosen.

Suddenly, he turned his eyes up to peer at Marks' retreating form and shouted, "Thank you!"

The sandy brown haired man turned, and walking backwards several steps, put his hand up in the air for a wave and called back with his lopsided easy grin, "You're welcome. Now go show the world what you got kid!"

Sugoroku smiled broadly. Though another good friend was leaving his life, he had to admit that it no longer felt any where as bad as it had with some of the others. Even as close as he and Mark had been, there was no sense of true loss in the parting.

Mark was a happy man, ready to move on and live his life under his own direction. He was hopeful, content and completely assured that he would find his way to becoming everything he wanted to be, and he was thanking Sugoroku for part of it.

Who could find anything sad in that?

No, self defense principle number two would stay the same.

A great friend was always worth the risk.

xxxxxxxxx

April.1,1946

0500 hours (5 am)

The Pemberton pulled out of dock that early morning, and under the picture of a brilliantly clear, early morning sky, it made its way down through the bay and out into the waters of the Pacific Ocean serenely. Like a lady of the highest aristocratic bearing, she gracefully cut the calm of the glassy sea as she began the second half of her journey home.

From the very start, there was so little wave beneath the Pemberton, that the ship felt less like it was pushing through liquid and more like it was gliding on air. It was a rather odd feeling for many of the men on board the sometimes difficult to steer Fletcher class destroyer.

Having gotten up only minutes before the ship pulled out of dock, Sugoroku did not fail to see the irony in the fact that the first leg of his trip could not have started off as tranquil as this second. It certainly would have made it easier to deal with the sea sickness he had suffered through in the beginning. He definitely wouldn't have minded traveling on water like this for the rest of the trip.

But on the reverse, there was the bonus that because it was so calm, his self defense training, slated to begin that very morning, would start off as though he were still on land.

Leo, after procuring the help of several other crew members, including the official smallest among them, who still stood at 5'6", had planned that they would begin Sugoroku's course in self defense once out to sea and fully underway. His thought on it was, that if Sugoroku could defend himself on a rolling ship, he could easily do so on solid ground.

Sugoroku hadn't quite followed that train of logic when he had first been told it. It was too questionable. True, he could walk well enough along without grabbing onto every rail and beam even when there was a steady roll to the ship, but that certainly didn't mean he had sea legs enough to go running around.

At least with the calm seas, he had a chance to begin his training without falling on his rear - or face - too much.

And so, by 6 am, the lessons were in full swing.

As usual, Sugoroku dedicated himself to learning the simple maneuvers shown to him, and when the men that he worked with did not go over board with their attacks, it wasn't long before he was able to quickly read their intentions and follow through with some defense. Sometimes the techniques he used were more like a boxer simply using his arms and fists to protect himself when in very close quarters, and sometimes he used leverage techniques in which he used his opponents own size and momentum against them. The latter he found he liked better, as it afforded even someone of his size a more secure, longer lasting defense. He could only take so many hits when using the boxing methods of protection, before he had to get away quickly or risk being hurt too much.

Being the quick study and analyzer that he was, Sugoroku very soon began to experiment on the styles and movement he was taught and he found new ways to use them and get better advantage of his friends. He used his far smaller size to effect easier shifts away from an attack, rather than defend himself with a physical block. He could use smaller areas for protection and easily fit through gaps in pipes and poles than the larger men could. He even found that the taller his attacker was, the harder it was for that man to hit him effectively. The tallest men had to move down to hit rather than straight on, and that meant that they lost strength behind their punches. With some of the taller men, if they did not hit him square on, they could not knock him down.

These things he learned thoroughly and efficiently, but the one thing that they did not teach him, was his self control.

Sugoroku did not heat up during the training. He did not lose his head if another made contact or managed to get through his defenses. He did not lose his temper in anger, did not lose his focus and never went for them first. This was his own teaching. He would not become an animal and rush forward to be the aggressor. He let them make the first move towards him every time before he answered. He remained calm, cool and infuriatingly unflappable.

The men tried to get him to lose it on more than one occasion, but they failed every time. They just could not get him to break.

Sugoroku refused to lower himself to that level. He had made his decision back in the warehouse never to let himself stoop to such responses, and he worked hard to make sure he did not forget. Even when one of the men accidentally caught too much of his still sensitive nose, and he went down in sharp pain, he did not fall victim to the instinct for retaliation.

He simply sat where he was and waited for the pain to subside before he would do another thing. He completely ignored their questions of concern and said not a word just to be sure it would not end with anything angry or aggressive.

When in defense of his person, he truly tried his hardest to feel nothing but his collected, unruffled, analyzing aloofness, and for the most part he succeeded magnificently.

Until approximately 7:49 am.

That morning, he felt something he had only known once before in his entire life.

He experienced it a minute after he found himself slammed violently against a gunning turret.

That morning, he felt terror.

Absolute terror.

* * *

Next Chapter: Tsunami Strike!…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	25. Part 2, Chapter 25: Tsunami Strike!

**Updates** ... Well, you've finally done it. You've finally caught up to me! That means the pressure's on to get the next chapter done. It also means that on occasion they may come a little longer between than just a week. Sorry 'bout that but I can't rush it. I feel it would be a disservice to both you and the Sugoroku image I've been cultivating. Just hang in there with me everyone. Don't worry though...I'll keep on going as long as the interest is there! Heck I'll keep it going even if no one else does read it. I mean, after 25 chapters it would almost be a crime for me stop, wouldn't it?

**Lady Althea** ... I'm glad you liked that last chapter so much. The Sugoroku/Mark interaction actually came to me pretty easily. I have a habit of letting the story write itself when I sit down to work on it. If I have to stop for longer than ten minutes, then something about it isn't right and I'll try another variation. Other than minor editing, that first part about being oneself is almost exactly how I originally wrote it. I can't wait to read your YGO:GX fic! I happily await its arrival!

**Scarab Dynasty** ... I'm loving the fact you're loving this! LOL. I love it too! When I wrote the goodbye scene with Mark, the card bit just sort of worked its way in there. It was only later that I realized the connection! I think it was a subconscious remembrance about how often that occurs in the YGO universe. I have a 'bit' YGO story (far from being complete) that also mentions the passing of cards and the collection that Grandpa amasses over the years. As TOM:SS progresses you should see that occurring on a regular basis, though not usually in the way you might first assume! And yes, a good cliffy is wonderful once in while!

**PyroDragon2006** ... I've had a few experiences myself to help teach me those very same ideas so writing it came relatively easy. For me it was always best to believe and support myself first before I could ever find the ability to support those around me. And yes, in my book as well good friends are always worth the pain.

**Ciardra** ... Yeah, the title did sort of give it away. As for sailing...I wish I could actually go sometime. I went on a cruise once and I love canoeing, but that's as far as my personal experience goes. Some research regarding the Destroyers has told me that because of their shape, they are particularly difficult to handle (you'll read this in an upcoming chapter) and during WWII, duty aboard aircraft carriers was highly sought after. This because their massive size made it easy to sit a great deal more steadily on the surface of the water despite some choppy seas, and also because living on one was like living in a mini city! They had special availability to perks like ice cream and movies simply because they had the room to store the goodies and hold a decent size screen!

And as for Sugoroku already seemingly so IC and canon...all I can say, is hang on my friends. He's got a few spins left before he's tailor made for YuGiOh. He may surprise you all yet!

Enjoy: )

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**25. Tsunami Strike!…**

'The Ring of Fire'.

This is the name applied to the areas that border along the Pacific tectonic plate. Along these edges there are great rifts, some above ground, most below, where the adjoining plates of the continents that lay upon the Earth touch. These great plates will shift from time to time on their fault lines, causing them to move away from each other, rub along the side of their neighbors, ride over or even under them as well.

When this occurs, new hills can be formed on land masses where the faults run above ground such as in California. Hot molten lava may be allowed to run free for a short time until the fault shifts again or the melted rock cools and hardens to cap the rupture. When the gaps are not closed off, a volcano begins to form and steadily rises, and when formed from under the water of the ocean for several years, islands begin to emerge. In the course of many millennia, that opening may shift away and in due time, a chain of islands may be formed, such as in the case of Japan. Occasionally, the shifting of the great plates will cause existing volcanoes, long quiet, to freshly spew its choking ash, burning cinders and globs of heated molten rock in to the air, sometimes for miles.

These eruptions do occasionally take locals living nearby by surprise, but for the most part, many of these happen with some predictability and even warning.

When faults shift as they do, it is always to the accompaniment of an earthquake. These quakes can be little more than a window rattling tremor, or an earth buckling wild ride. Indeed, some can be so subtle that only the most sensitive of instruments may detect them, and others so ground shattering that whole cities can be leveled in an instant and the shaking can felt by those living sometimes hundreds of miles away. These can be particularly disastrous happenings. But the earthquakes by themselves are not always the worst.

Some believe that the worst, is also the most silent.

Earthquakes where drifting plates converge and the heavier oceanic plate dips below the lighter continents, will cause the land to often times move in fits and starts, sticking for awhile, then slipping. When one plate becomes stuck against the edge of another for a long period of time, immeasurable stresses build. When a locked area such as this beneath the ocean gives way, parts of the seafloor may snap upward as the tension is released while other areas may sink downward. In the instant after the quake, the shape of the sea surface mirrors the contours of the seafloor below. But, just as quickly, gravity acts to return the sea surface to its original shape. As the rumpled sea flattens out, ripples race outward, similar to those one sees when a stone is thrown into a puddle.

This is how a tsunami is born.

It is not affected or generated by the gravitational pull of the moon or sun as in the case of a true tidal wave. As stated above, it is impulsively created through the incredible forces of nature.

On the open sea, tsunami waves can reach speeds approaching 500-700 miles per hour, keeping pace easily with a Boeing 747. Their length can extend to more than 750 kilometers and when there are more than one, there can be hundreds of miles between the individual crests.

Because the momentum of these waves is so great, a tsunami can travel great distances with amazingly little loss of energy. As an example… In 1960, an earthquake off the coast of Chile, generated a tsunami with enough force to kill 150 people in Japan, after a journey of 22 hours and 10,000 miles.

The waves from such a trans-Pacific tsunami can even reverberate back and forth across the ocean for days.

Surprisingly, despite its high speed, a tsunami is not dangerous in deep water. In open water, a single wave is less than a few meters high. Because of its great length, a sea-surface slope is created that is so gentle it usually passes by unnoticed. Gazing out the window of a plane, you wouldn't even be able to pick it out from the regular wind-driven swells. But in fact, the tsunami crest is only the very tip of a vast mass of water in motion, and while wind-driven waves and swells are confined to a shallow layer near the ocean surface, a tsunami extends thousands of feet deep into the ocean.

Why then, if a tsunami wave is so unnoticeable in the middle of the ocean, does it present such a devastating force of destruction when it makes land fall?

There are several reasons.

First; the deeper the ocean is and the longer the running of the waves before it hits land, the more its speed increases.

Second; the wavelength decreases as it moves close to land, causing again, a build up of power behind the existing wave.

Third; as the waves in the tsunami reach shore, they slow down due to the shallowing sea floor, and the loss in speed is often accompanied by a dramatic increase in wave height. The waves scrunch together like the ribs of an accordion and heave upward. The Japanese word "tsu-nami" translates literally as "harbor wave." It is felt by some to have originated simply because a tsunami can speed in silently and undetected across the ocean, then unexpectedly arise as destructively high waves in shallow coastal waters or 'harbors'.

Depending on the geometry of the seafloor warping that first generated the waves and the floor bed passed on the journey, tsunami attacks can take different forms. In some cases, the sea will draw water back and empty harbors, leaving fish flopping on the mud. This is, inevitably, followed by the arrival of the crest of a tsunami wave. Tsunamis can also flood in suddenly without warning. They do not usually curve over and break, like surfing waves. These massive waves are most commonly described as dark "walls" of water. Impelled by the mass of water behind them, they bulldoze onto the shore and inundate the coast, snapping trees like twigs, toppling stone walls and lighthouses, and smashing houses and buildings into kindling.

This 'runup' can also be vastly affected by the contours of the seafloor and coastline have a profound influence on the height of the waves, sometimes with surprising and dangerous results.

In one recorded incident in Japan, the wave runup on the coast averaged about 50 - 65 feet. But in one particular spot, the waves pushed into a V-shaped valley open to the sea, concentrating the water in a tighter and tighter space. In the end, the water ran up to 90 feet above sea level, about the height of an 8-story office building.

These are the statistics and general mechanics of the Tsunami wave. It can be a frightening enough event to witness. Terrifying to live through.

On April.1,1946, an estimated 7.8 magnitude earthquake shook the sea floor along Alaska's Aleutian Islands at 12:30am GMT. The resulting tsunami waves wiped out the Scotch Cap Lighthouse in Alaska, killing five Coast Guard employees. In less than five minutes, the building was completely ripped from its foundation and gone. The waves that spread out across the Pacific caused little more than especially high running tides along the west coast of the United States and nothing worthy of notice along the east coast of the European Continent. When it hit the Hawaiian islands however, there was destruction, chaos and death.

It had only been a few short hours after the Pemberton had departed from Pearl Harbor, and having made its way back to the Northern side of the Hawaiian islands, the Destroyer was making good headway on its route back to the United States. The skies were clear and a light spring wind blew refreshingly across the ship.

Sugoroku had been on the forward deck that early morning working with Leo and several other men on his self defense. It was at about 7:49 am when, after he missed blocking a hit that sent him back several feet, he found himself suddenly tossed back and into the side of a forward gunners turret with a hard smack.

Sugoroku sat on the deck and rubbed the back of his head. He had never felt anything quite like that before. It was as if the entire ship had suddenly lurched down causing him to lose his footing. One moment the deck was solidly beneath his feet, the next it was gone. He looked at the men with him and in surprise, saw them with their hands on what was close to them as well. They seemed just as confused as he at the strange movement of the sea.

"What the heck was that?" asked one of the men nearest Leo.

Leo shook his head, "I don't know."

A moment later, there was heard a low rumbling, like that of a low-flying jet plane. It was an unusual sound that even Sugoroku knew without question, had nothing to do with any operation on board the Pemberton.

The men turned and looked out to sea almost in unison and Sugoroku followed their gaze. In the distance just below the horizon, there was an unusual long spray of water before it went down as the ominous rumbling grew louder.

Then he noticed something odd. The water seemed to be rising. At a most alarming rate of speed, the ocean drew up from its surface and began to form a wave like nothing Sugoroku had ever seen. He watched in fascination at the spectacle for a long moment before he realized that the wave was growing higher with each passing second, and for each foot it grew, it was closing in quickly, bearing down on the Pemberton and the last island of the Hawaiian chain.

His wide eyes grew even wider as the wave became a hill, and the hill, a wall...a solid, dark wall of water racing at them. The massive wave spread nearly as far as he could see in either direction, and he instantly understood that there would be no running from it. It was coming… Coming for them.

Above them, a warning claxon suddenly sounded, but before they could do little more than steer the ship slightly to the left, the wave was on top of them, taking the ship almost broadside, its forward edge sweeping the Pemberton up it's side. Sugoroku felt himself once more slammed against the gunners turret as the ship leaned on her right side, hard. Further and further she was angled until the ship abruptly broke through the top of the wall, and then down she started along the backside of the wave with a wild rush.

When the ship hit the bottom of the wave, there was a bone jarring shift as it hit the difference between the flat surface of the ocean and angled side, and a hard cool spray of sea water flew up to soak Sugoroku and the men who had clung on for dear life to whatever was closest to them.

His heart racing, his mind half numb at the experience, Sugoroku slowly sat up straight as he stared in mute shock at the wet deck around him.

"A tsunami!"

Sugoroku instantly looked at Leo at the Japanese word that had issued from the man's lips.

"Harbor wave," he translated in awe. He had heard of them, but he had never before been witness to one. Living on one of the furthest ports of the bay beside his home city, Sugoroku had been spared any first hand knowledge of such an event.

"That was only a small one," said another man, "Maybe twenty feet at the most."

"Think they'll be any more?" asked Leo as he stood up on the still rocking deck.

"Don't know. We should head down though before we find out the hard way."

Leo turned and saw Sugoroku still sitting on the deck in shock. He walked over quickly and kneeled next to him.

"You okay, pal?" he asked.

Sugoroku didn't answer immediately. He simply shook his head for a moment as he tried to clear the panic that filled him for that brief, but outrageous ride.

"Come on pal. Give me something here. Answer me."

"I'm…I'm alright. Just…just…"

Leo nodded.

"Me too Sugoroku," the man agreed as he helped Sugoroku stand.

"Come on. Lets get below before we get hit again."

Sugoroku suddenly swallowed thickly as he looked past Leo. His jaw fell open and taking in the younger man's expression, Leo turned and peered out.

"Aw shoot," he started, "Too late."

He was in fact correct. What Sugoroku had been staring at was the rising waters of another huge wave as it rose up to toss them.

Frozen where he stood, Sugoroku could not move and it took Leo literally shoving and pushing Sugoroku towards the nearby hatchway to get him to even begin to head towards what semblance of safety they had.

"Go Sugoroku!" shouted Leo as the second wave flew towards them.

Having finally regained control over his legs, Sugoroku slipped and slid his way through the door, Leo so close behind he could almost feel the man's breath.

Just a little way in the first corridor, Leo called out above the still clanging warning, "Go down below Sugoroku. Head to the bunks."

Sugoroku nodded and went on, quickly and repeatedly deferring to the running navy men when they came upon him, by stopping only long enough to press himself to the wall to allow them easy passage. There was no way he was going to impede the progress of men who had the ability to keep the ship, and himself, alive and afloat.

Sugoroku was on the ladder to the lower deck on which the aft sleeping quarters were situated, when the second wave hit. Again, the ship was lifted off the flat surface of the ocean and as it did with the first, the Pemberton rode up the side of this second even larger wave, though this time, the ship had been turned enough to catch the lifting force of the wave just off from full to the front of the bow.

As Sugoroku gripped the ladder rung with both arms and held tightly, he intoned to himself that any moment now, the ship would reach the top of the wave and start down the other side to the safety of the level sea surface below.

But the seconds seemed to drag and for one, briefly insane moment, Sugoroku wondered if they would ever reach the top of the wall of water, or if they would continue up into the heavens.

After what seemed like an eternity, the ship finally crested over the top and descended to the other side. This shifted the angle in which Sugoroku had been caught on the ladder causing his feet to come off the lower rung. Fearing he would not be able to hold on securely any longer, Sugoroku tightened every muscle in his arms, chest and even his neck, refusing to let himself slip off. For almost 10 full seconds, he hung this way, his eyes closed tightly, willing away the fright that had enveloped him, hoping it would end…believing it would…

'Stop! Please... Stop!' was all his mind could manage to think.

It did finally end, but it was with a crash that shook the entire ship, rattling every beam and stressing every rivet that held the ship together to their utmost. This severe landing jerked Sugoroku down and his jaw, already so tightly held to the ladder rung, was shoved hard into the bar and pain streaked across it. Taken aback by the sharpness of this newest pain, his arms relaxed ever so slightly and unable to keep from losing his grip, he fell down the remaining 5 feet of the ladder way.

Sugoroku hit the floor in a crumpled heap where he lay for a moment in a dazed stupor, the irony taste of blood the only thing he could recognize at that moment.

"Hey! Sugoroku! Sugoroku! You okay?" asked a seaman who moved quickly next to him.

Sugoroku opened his eyes and looked at the man as he swallowed the blood that lay in his mouth from his bitten tongue. He shook his head slowly as he sat up, but only with the man's help.

"Come on. Lets get you someplace safe."

Putting his arms around him, the man lifted Sugoroku up to stand and then steadied him as he helped him through the last corridors to the aft bunks.

"Grab a bunk Sugoroku…and hang on tight! Okay?"

Sugoroku nodded dully as he moved away from the entryway to his own bunk where he tried to crawl up, but still too shaken to stand even straight on his own, he found he could not climb and consigned himself to laying on the bunk below his. Though he had no way of knowing if there would even be another wave, Sugoroku settled immediately for threading his arms and feet through the rope lines that held the bunk material to their frames and he lay there in a dazed, half terrified state.

Barely able to think, Sugoroku shook and shivered not so much from the soaking he had received from the first wave, but from the dread of the total helplessness that more than occupied his mind.

There was no where to run.

No where to hide.

This bunk that he lay upon afforded nothing to him but a place to lay in motionless terror. It was nothing more than a vain attempt to stay in one spot and avoid being further thrown about and injured.

This was not like when terror and flames had swept through Tokyo during the bombings. At least there he had been able to run. Even if it had done nothing for his terror then, it had at least given him the sense that he was doing something to ensure his safety. He was fleeing death and that was all that had mattered just then.

But here… Here he could do nothing.

He was in a ship, on the ocean, almost a mile away from the last island in the Hawaiian chain and more than 3,800 miles from the home he had left. If the ship went down here, even despite the best efforts of the crew, he knew that he would go down with it. While he could swim reasonably enough, he held no illusions about actually making it a full mile to land. His only hope would be to catch an armful of some floating object, and hope he had either strength enough to kick his way to land, or that the current would take him that way. Of course, that was even IF he was able to get out of the ship in the first place.

As the desperateness of the moment continued to frighten the 16 year old, he felt the tell tale sign of the ship lifting up as another wave swept upon the Pemberton, taking her on yet another wild and unwanted ride.

Gripping with everything he had, praying for it to end, silently begging for it all to be a dream, Sugoroku rode this third wave out with his face pressed down onto a pillow as the personal objects, clothes and loose bags of the sailor's' flew past him along the floor and even through the air.

This is how he stayed for almost a half hour.

There were a total of seven tsunami waves that hit the Pemberton and the Hawaiian islands that April morning and during it all, crashes and bangs sounded as loose items sallied back and forth like juggernauts about the open rooms and corridors. Groans and whines of protest from the ship echoed through its hull for each new wave that raised her high before sending her plummeting down to crash furiously on the unyielding waters below. But the Pemberton was a mighty ship, made of the finest steel and cemented with the greatest of human ingenuity available, and she refused to yield up her cargo of life to the screaming seas.

She was guided through the raging maelstrom of water with some of the very best men the Navy could boast for the time at her helm and true to her moniker, she and her 'Braves' battled through Mother Nature's worst unrelentingly.

When the last of the waves passed and their wild ride was at last ended, the alarms were stilled, and there settled an almost unnatural silence about the world.

Sugoroku, still strung to the bunk he had managed to reach, lay for long seconds, his nerves stretched and raw both from the experience so far and the dread of another wave he felt sure was just on the horizon. His mind clearly saw the phantom wave sitting in demonical glee, waiting for him to loosen his grip. It was just waiting for them to feel that they were finally at ease and safe before pouncing like a jungle cat on the prowl. It was waiting to strike at them when they weren't looking…weren't prepared…weak…helpless…

But that imaginary wave did not come and after a bit, he peeked out from the pillow and flicked his eyes about warily. The room around him was a complete mess. Pillows, sheets, clothes, hats, plus a thousand other myriad objects, both personal and not, littered the room. It would take hours for everyone to sort out whose things were whose. But at least there was only minimal water.

Sugoroku slowly, hesitantly, almost as if afraid to tempt fate, unwound his hands and feet from the roping and slowly sat up, not noticing the purple lines indented into his flesh from the pressure he had exerted on to the ties. He listened carefully, dreading that droning rumbling roar that proceeded the massive waves, but heard only the sounds of normalcy. The steady thrum of the engines, the rhythmic slap of the waves on the hull, the voices of the crew men in other areas of the level…there was nothing but what was typical for the vessel.

'Perhaps...', he thought. '...it _is_ over.'

Perhaps he could risk getting to his feet and maybe even walking out of the sleeping quarters. Maybe it was all right to see what was going on in the rest of the ship…to see what had happened else where…how everyone else was doing…

By slow degrees, his terror, his panic, slipped away as the most defining characteristic of his existence, curiosity, filtered past his thoughts of mortality. His normal need to know found his hard wired streak of inquisitiveness and with only the slightest of limps, Sugoroku picked his way through the littered sleeping quarters and out into the corridors of the Pemberton.

At that moment, only another wave would have stopped his progress. There were few things that could impede the young man from his interests when curiosity or competition was at play.

Though the terrifying events had managed to hold his body captive with its paralyzing panic, even that was only a temporary distraction. There was too much to check out and see after it was all done, and while the bruises and aches would linger for the next week, his total submersion into dread had not lasted but minutes after the entire ordeal was over.

It had happened and he had lived and he was ready to move past it to see what was next.

That was what he did.

That was who he was.

That was Sugoroku Mutou.

Not even a tsunami had force enough to hold that back forever.

* * *

A/N...The 10 page outline for TOM:SS was actually complete by October of 2004. I had begun work on it shortly afterward and was steaming along rather nicely with my history and research. When I began my research for Hawaii during the March/April of 1946 era, it was less than two days after the horrific Indonesian/Sumatran tsunami that struck the coastline. You can imagine my unutterable surprise to find that on the exact date that I had slated in my outline for the Pemberton to leave Hawaii, I found the historical mentionings of a tsunami that had hit Hawaii. After taking almost a full minute to get myself composed once more, I shut my computer off and would not turn it on for a whole week.

I was just too freaked by the timing.

I considered it over and over again. Why now? How had I chosen THAT date and how was it that I had chosen just THEN to work on it and discover THAT incident? Was it sheer coincidence? The luck of the draw? Nothing more than timing? Sometimes I'm not so sure.

Curiously enough, I found myself unable to keep away from TOM:SS and the idea of the tsunami bearing down on Sugoroku soon had me transfixed. What would he have done? What could anyone have done? So I continued my research, delved into the workings of the tsunami, and found my chapter written before some of the chapters previous to this one were even started.

It was less than a week later that I found myself explaining to a group of children I work with on a weekly basis exactly what a tsunami was and how it worked, of course tailored down for children to understand. Surprisingly, by the time I was done, I had collected another 35 kids from neighboring classrooms (to add to my own 15) and about 27 adults (many parents picking up kids) sitting in and listening as well. I had more than one come back later and express a thank you for not only finding the time and ability to explain such a terrifying event to some of the more nervous children, but unsure parents as well.

The unknown can be scary simply for the fact that it is unknown. But when knowledge and understanding of the event is gained, we may still fear it, but with respect rather than blind terror. Those kids and parents now knew what exactly had happened, and though they could not return the lives taken and some still continued to be saddened by the disaster, most found that they could live with it without mortal terror that it would strike them down where they stood at the first possible chance. One child even stopped having nightmares after my little explanation. Once he understood what it was and how it had happened, he was no longer afraid of it happening just because. It now had rhyme and reason and he was happy just knowing that.

So after all the research for one chapter in a story, I helped a couple kids feel much better and have less fear of the bumps in the night or the waves at the beach.

Even if for no other reason, I think I can be happy with that.

Next Chapter: Courses of Change…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	26. Part 2, Chapter 26: Courses of Change

**Updates** ... Phew, it took me almost two weeks to get this done! Sorry for the delay, but you know me and my darned perfectionism. If its not right, I won't post.

**PyroDragon2006** ... And yes, there will be things that affect him. Some more than others and some worse then others. They'll be along soon enough have no fears.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... Thank you. I'm glad you enjoyed it. Well, Sugoroku isn't done yet. he has a few more twists and turns ahead of him...some you may not believe until you actually read it! And as for being in tune with his character... I don't know how I do it. He's just worked his way in to my subconscious I guess. : ) I tend to be an analyzer myself so he and I have that in common, but I use that when I study the situation I put him in and try to 'see' how he might react and there you have it.

**Lady Althea** ... Yes, Mother Nature definitely has a mind of her own and you don't want to go ticking her off. I'm looking forward to your GX story!

Okay, faithful reviewers, here's my next offering. Hope you all like.

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**26. Courses of Change…**

And so it was that after the Tsunami of April. 1, 1946, after tossing the Pemberton on its already mentioned stomach churning ride, a total of 7 waves belted down on the residents of Hilo on the big island, Hawaii, with unmerciful fury. In all, 159 people were killed and there was caused more than $26 million in damage. The waves completely destroyed Hilo's waterfront and every house on the main street facing Hilo Bay was ripped off its foundation, carried across the street, and smashed against buildings on the other side. These debris-laden waves, up to eight meters high, even caught an unfortunate number of schoolchildren before classes had began and entirely wiped out a hospital.

One could not imagine that there would be any possible positive to this disastrous happening, but it does so happen that this particular set of waves brought attention to these Pacific born monsters and in 1948, the United States responded by setting up the Pacific Tsunami Warning Center in Hawaii. But that is still for the future.

In the here and now of Sugoroku's life, the Pemberton lay still in the waters just a mile off the shore of Hawaii while some minor repairs were being affected. A few railings, here and there, a radio antennae, a few bolts and rivets…nothing that could be considered life threatening. What would take the longest was the clean up. There was some amount of water to be pumped out, though not so much that would have made it a serious situation. But it was a messy and slippery issue all the same and it had to be cleared.

The worst by far however, was the items that somehow had managed to find their way loose from their normal locations. On the average naval vessel, everything that can possibly be bolted down is done so very securely. Chairs, beds, tables…these are anchored to the floors and walls. In the mess hall, the tables are of the type most often found in the average high school, where in the bench seats are already connected to the table. In the radio room, the main component radio was set into a special recess with clips so that it could be removed only if necessary. In the kitchen, the largest appliances, that have no other place to sit and are used too often to necessitate moving, are bolted to the counter tops. Pots, pans and other smaller cooking utilities are stored in cabinets and drawers that are made to lock securely when closed so that only by the most aggressive of pulls or shifting of their door faces could one open them up. In the sleeping quarters, each crew member was given either a stationary standing locker or bolted down foot locker that in all instances was to be kept locked. Any additional ship supplies were kept stacked and locked in such a manner so as to keep these precious items from shifting and breaking open during even the roughest of weather. However, the "roughest of weather" had not exactly included being dropped from 30-40 feet high and at one point 70 feet.

Two fire extinguishers - one of which knocked one man unconscious when it connected with his head - had come free and were found more than a few feet from their correct positions on the walls. Paper from the radio room and bits of magazines clung to the walls of the corridors. There could even be found in very nearly every room at least one tin of some food item. But if the rest of the ship was in a mild state of disarray, the sleeping quarters, both fore and aft, where disaster areas.

Since the offical surrender of the Japanese Empire, the men aboard the Pemberton, and indeed many other ships no longer in dangerous waters, had become a little...lax in their rules regarding the strict need for order and particularly, locked personal storage compartments. Because of the relaxed attitudes taken on by the men and the fact that even certain superiors in the chain of command had done nothing to disuade them, there were consequently opened lockers and trunks, and items only normally found on an enlisted man or in their hands was left free to make their own journeys.

Clothes were strewn about as if someone had taken a hamper and simply shaken it upside down around the room as one might shake a salt shaker. Socks clung to the ropes that laced the mattresses to their frames. Underwear hung from the poles and pipes that made up the bed frames. Tee-shirts, pants and issued shirts littered the floor in a solid carpet and the personal effects of the sailors - their razors, their books, their letters and pictures from home - lay upon the clothes, pieces broken, papers soaked, images smudged and smeared and ripped.

This was the hardest for many of the men to clean up. Not because of the enormity of the job itself, but the poignant reminder, already so strong, that though they were on their way home, they were still so very far away and now, lucky to be able to even continue the journey.

For most of the men cleaning these areas, it was done in silence. This was a silence born not for the loss of any man, but created from the aching of hearts at the lost bits of hope that kept such men as these bold and brave and ever willing to fight the toughest fights. The loss of their precious memories was almost too much for a few, and when the letters from a mother or sweetheart, or the picture of their baby only months old when they left for their duty, was found, these war hardened men could not hold back their tears.

The ink of many of these letters was only half washed away and rather than be completely clean of thought or longing, the words were smeared just enough so as to be unintelligible no matter how hard a man might squint. The idea that the letter was still there but could no longer be read, was harder by far than its absolute disappearance. It was there, but could not be viewed. Just like their families and friends and the girls they thought - hoped! - were still waiting for them.

The complete blankness of a page would have been easier, for it could be thought of as a moving on or completion, or even the idea of a fresh start. The same went for the men's pictures. The loss of one would only serve to bring it forth by memory with so much more clarity, while the ravaged remains of what once was, served only to remind the men that nothing was a guarantee, that though there was finally peace, there was no absolute.

The men of the Pemberton were suddenly tired men. More than a little eager, more than ready to get home, they could not wait to set foot on true American soil and kiss their children, hug their parents and make love to their wives.

Though Sugoroku was still young, he understood and he did not fail to notice the somber tone that took hold. He watched many of the men vainly attempt to air dry their soaked letters by waving them back and forth gently or dab them dry with their own shirts hoping they would become readable once more. Of course such attempts were most ineffective, but no one said anything to the contrary. Especially Sugoroku.

The light of hope within the men so dimmed and no longer definable, touched Sugoroku and in his own way he suffered with them. For the first time since stepping aboard the destroyer, the young man felt a twinge of his own homesickness envelope him and though he still felt that intense need to leave his childhood behind in so dramatic a fashion, he couldn't help but feel that minor touch of melancholy over his decision. No, he did not wish he was back home. But he did still miss seeing some of the things he had grown up with. Including his mother. This revelation, at the same time discovered as he witnessed the futile attempts of the men to salvage their personal mementos, reminded him that he had not as yet kept his word to his mother and written to her.

Sugoroku sighed softly to himself.

'It can wait another few hours,' he thought as he again took in the grim faces of the men with which he traveled.

They needed help right now, in however small a form, and he gave it.

For the next few hours he sorted the clothes that littered the aft sleeping quarters, doing as well as any man there with properly returning the assorted pieces to their rightful owners. Fortunately, most of the men had wisely initialed their attire. The ones that hadn't were left to figure out who's was who's more or less on their own once the unmarked stuff was put into one big pile. It was while he was helping several friends sort and fold their items that Leo sauntered in and grinned.

"Hey, Sugoroku! Check it out pal. They finally got that antennae fixed topside and we got a report from the Harbor."

Sugoroku perked up.

"You'll be happy to know that the most they got were some pretty weird tides, but that's it."

"Then everyone there is safe?'

"Yep. Mark and the others are just fine…," then Leo smirked in amusement, "…as is a certain serviceman's daughter…"

The men beside Sugoroku chuckled as the younger man felt his cheeks warm slightly at the hinted mention of Loni. It wasn't that he'd been worried for her, not really worried anyway, but he had…wondered. It was nice to know though, that at least she and Mark had been sheltered from the ravages of the sea.

Sugoroku nodded then.

"That's good."

"Good to know she'll be there if you go back, huh kid?" asked a man beside him.

Sugoroku looked at the man in annoyance as the others laughed. How many men on board knew about her anyway?

Seeing Sugoroku's expression, a fellow nearby said, "Don't worry Sugoroku. You don't have to answer him. They're just kidding around with ya'."

Sugoroku relaxed considerably at that as he thought back to that evening with Loni. He hadn't really gone into great detail with anyone about something that had only lasted a few seconds and to be honest, he wasn't sure he wanted to with these guys. In his mind, it was for him and him alone to consider and remember.

Just then, a light stab of pain at the back of his wave abused head brought him back to full attention. He reached back and rubbed the resultant bump beneath his black hair tenderly.

Seeing the move, Leo asked, "You okay pal?"

Sugoroku winced.

"Yes. Just sore."

"You should be. You got thrown about enough. First on the decks, then down the ladder… it's a miracle you didn't break something."

Sugoroku gave the rueful reply, "I'm surprised I'm not dead."

"Aw, it ain't that easy to kill a grand ship like this kid," said Squawk as he sat up on a bunk. "She's too tough for that. And since you're on her, it only stands that you wouldn't be that easy to kill off either. No one on ol' Bertie would be."

Sugoroku looked at his friend.

"How did we make it through anyway?"

"I told ya. Berties' too tough. She's got a mind of her own sometimes, but she takes care of her own. Me personally, I never thought for a second that we were in any trouble. Once she makes her mind up to keep going, that's just what she does. She keeps her eyes forward and slams right through and keeps her crew alive and kickin' for the next fight."

Skepticism crossed the young Japanese face.

"You make it sound like the ship is alive."

Squawk looked at Sugoroku in surprise.

"She might as well be. She has a habit of doin' her own thing and there's times when there ain't a thing we can do about it. You know why we call it a 'she' right?"

Sugoroku shook his head.

"Because a good ship is like a good woman. She'll do whatever it takes to see you make it, usually with an easy ride, but she can still be temperamental as hell."

The disbelieving, almost confused look that sat on Sugoroku's face said it all and Squawk sighed, seeing that his statement was completely lost on the younger man's innocence.

"Well, you'll understand someday, " he said.

"Maybe he won't have to wait…at least on part of it," suggested Leo.

Everyone looked at him.

"Hey, Sugoroku...ya' wanna' learn how to steer a Destroyer?"

The smile that touched his face went from ear to ear and Sugoroku nodded vigorously. He may not have understood the woman half of Squawk's thinking…yet, but at least he could get to see the ship side of it.

The steering of a Destroyer is like few other ships in the US Navy. While she is sleek and lithe with all the right curves, she is a creature almost as unpredictable as the seas in which she travels. Particularly when the waves run high or when the sea is running from aft in the same direction as she herself is headed.

When one was attempting to guide the ship in the chosen direction of their course, there were three steering stations from which this could be effected. The first was, most obviously enough, on the bridge where a gyroscope gave the helmsman their true heading for normal operation, and a magnetic compass for emergency situations.

The secondary steering was on a platform half way up the after stack, where there was another wheel and magnetic compass to be used if the bridge was destroyed.

Finally, there was a manual steering station in the "steering engine room" (SER), where, if all else failed, the ship could be "steered" using only manual input. This was decidedly the most difficult area to steer from as it lacked a rudder indicator to show the desired rudder angle or an electronic indicator showing its _actual_, instantaneous, position.

Most difficult about it, particularly in this position, was the time lag between turning the wheel and having the rudder respond, and a further, much larger, time lag before the ship responded. One could spin the wheel very quickly to the maximum of thirty degrees in only a second or two, but the ship would not fully effect the angle for up to eight to ten seconds. This was only aggravated by the shape of the destroyer itself.

The _Fletcher_ class Destroyer is a very narrow ship at about 376 feet long and only 39 feet wide. From above they show the aspect ratio of a cigar. One might think that, being long and slim, they would like to move in a straight line. This however, was not always the case.

Sugoroku quickly discovered that this 'Lady of the Sea' did indeed have a mind of her own and she often defied reason when he tried to determine why she would regularly wander 5 to 15 degrees off course in only seconds.

To be a good helmsman required very sensitive physical senses and a keen mind. This was because it was in most cases, necessary to _predict_ what she was about to do in the next several seconds and take immediate corrective action when warranted. Once she has begun to slide off course, the rudder cannot be moved quickly enough to avoid wandering, so the helmsman tries, as stated, to second guess the Lady. In trying to bring her back on course, one could easily apply too much rudder, overcompensating, and, due to the side thrust on the rudder, cause the ship to roll.

This easily happened more than once to any helmsman Sugoroku watched, and he could not help but issue a laugh when it happened at mealtime. When the pitch or roll was great enough to disturb even the most weathered of sea men down in the mess-hall, someone would invariably call loudly "Who the Hell is on the wheel?"  
Sugoroku did not have chance to steer during the day as it was generally agreed that as indulgent as their captain was, no one thought him lax enough to let a 16 year old boy steer the ship, no matter how well liked the boy was. So Sugoroku's turn, came at night.

The only problem with this arrangement was that on a dark night, when the sea was calm and the bridge was peaceful, steering could be rather…boring. The only thing Sugoroku could see clearly was the gyro repeater showing him his heading. Staring at the gyro repeater was a mesmerizing pastime and he found himself struggling to keep from falling asleep. On his third night standing at the wheel, he had suddenly abruptly awoken, to find that he was way off course. Not wanting to draw attention to it, he did not look around at the other two people half awake with him, but slowly corrected the course and no one else on the bridge noticed. When no one made mention of it later, he could only amusingly presume that he had not been the only one nodding off that evening.  
Sugoroku quickly found that to be truly the best at this sometimes tedious job, it was required for a helmsman to have an almost intimate, intuitive, relationship with the vessel. The man steering had to use what ever little bit of information he could garner as they went including the shift of weight on his feet, the sense of balance from his inner ear, his visual reference, the always useful feeling in his various joints, as well as the ever faithful "gut" feelings. Using these aids to the best of their ability, one could, over time, learn how to handle the ship with grace and ease. Well, most of the time.

Sugoroku's short tenure as a night time helmsman would not be long enough for him to become really adroit at it and he had no true natural talent for it, but there were side benefits, most unspoken, to these lessons.

It was very normal for Sugoroku to conduct his daily affairs with clear, studied concentration and he always seemed to know just how to handle the routine of living when there was not great variation to those things that happened. However, as it does with any man, such ease can often bring about a certain contempt for the lesser activities that though mundane must still be followed through with.

What Sugoroku learned through his time at the wheel was that no matter how boring the little things seemed, no matter how easy it might be to just let oneself slip and not put as much all into those simple tasks, it was a far better choice to pay extra attention to the little details that were so easily dismissed, because it was often these little things that, when left unchecked and unconcerned, snowballed into far larger issues and thus threw one off course.

To study him further, one would also have been able to note that as his time at the position increased, his far more less distinct abilities became sharpened and were slowly being honed to a razor sharp edge.

Intuition became a best friend…instinct a partner. He learned to use those subtle queues and hints with the same assurance and confidence as one might have with proven intelligence information printed and sent by naval communiqué. This, coupled with both the decent food his body was finally able to consistently acquire and his regular daily self defense practice, was setting the stage to allow for a surge in growth both physically and mentally, the product of which while far from being a complete metamorphosis, would give him shape to tackle very nearly anything he came across.

His observational skills grew by tenfold. His manner became cool and introspective. When there was a true goal in mind he learned patience in the journey to attain it. The execution of actions necessary became efficient with some things almost to the point of being second nature.

There was a great blending of old and new within him and though it would be some years before he truly possessed mastery over each bit of nuance that inhabited him, the stage was set, the curtains drawn and the world awaited. All that was needed was for him to walk out into the spot light and own it.

But even with all this, there was yet one lesson more to be learned in the last two weeks of his tenure aboard the Pemberton.

xxxxxxxxx

It had been almost two and a half weeks since that last game with Richter and the man in question had not faired well. His reputation tarnished, any respect there had been for him - negative or positive - was broken and there was not a man aboard the ship who did not feel a sense of satisfaction at that turn of events. He could no longer get a single person to play one hand of cards even without a bet.

This lent to Richter becoming morose and silent. Even the two men that he had passed much of his free time with no longer had much to do with him. To be honest, they were a little afraid - and rightly so - of him. So Richter was left to do his job such as it pertained to him but nothing more. He was a loner in a way that even the always recovering gambling addict Vick was not.

Of course Sugoroku had never intended for this to be the total outcome of that last game. His only goal had been to win. But Richter, unable to deal with the lesson of his mistakes and change by way of apology and better action, had willingly locked himself in a prison of purgatory where in his own bitter heart was the warden.

Even in the midst of a mess hall full of other men, Richter was quite alone and as effective as any prison solitary, this chosen loneliness brought about to him a relentless, consuming, daily return to the day that had brought him to this point. And with each passing day he hated it more and more. Anger rose to fever pitch and with hardly a notice or a care, it warped his sense of logic and sense of fairness. Before he knew it, he was fully immersed in a dark world of resentment complete with the need for retribution.

Now of course this did not all occur _only_ as a result of that match. It had already been molded into the fabric of his character, to seek to punish, by years of being the intimidator and easily having his way. He had been the bully and always on top. When this standing position of power had been usurped, he had not known how to deal with it or seek absolution and so had turned inward on himself to fester as he worked on his plans to gain his throne back from the unsuspecting boy.

Sugoroku's triumphant face haunted him by day and moments of 'revenge fulfilled' teased his dreams at night, and when at last the time came to get his payback, he found that the occasion presented itself not with any subtle setting or well executed plan of devious design.

It was nothing more than an accident of opportune time.

* * *

Next Chapter: Last Lessons…

R and R's gratefully appreciated: )


	27. Part 2, Chapter 27: Last Lessons

**Updates** ... See at the bottom.

**PyroDragon2006** ... As always, I'm totally thrilled to see you're hanging in with me and Sugoroku! He is growing, isn't he? there's still some more to go though and its funny you should mention about 'his parents not recognizing him'. You've either been snooping about in my Sugoroku's file on my computer...or you're reading my mind! But that is for later.

**Scarab Dynasty** ... You like my stories...and I like your reviews! Lol. You marvel at how I make the links and I marvel at how you see them all. Truthfully, you've even made a few that I missed. I'm just trying to make Sugoroku/Solomon as well rounded as I possible can. Were he any less, he wouldn't be the character Takahashi makes him out to be. I think there will actually be a time or two (or more) where his experiences will be more just for the sake of the adventure than the cultivating of his final persona. There's gotta' be some fun in there after all. But first, a few less than wonderful experiences to set him on a run you might not first expect. : )

And now that that's all done... read on!

Trixie21

* * *

Okay, you all know the drill. I have to take up valuable space and time to say that I do not own any part that is the coolness of the Yu-Gi-Oh universe. That honor goes completely to Kazuki Takahashi. Authoress as she bows subserviently before her shrine of great creators... "We're not worthy! We're not worthy! We're not worthy!"

* * *

**This Old Man: Sugoroku's Story**

**Part 2: America**

**27. Last Lessons…**

Some lessons in life are learned from books and some are garnered through the verbal retellings of stories. For some, knowledge of a truly important fact of life can be learned by the example through another person's life. For many, the oft times greatest of lessons are learned not by the second hand, but by personal experience.

By April 11th 1946, the Pemberton and her crew, including one lone Japanese boy, were but a scant two days away from San Diego and as he sat at the mess table absently picking at his sliding tray of food, Sugoroku found himself almost a little unhappy about this adventure's imminent ending.

Though there had been a few mishaps, not to mention more than a couple of bruises and a terribly sore nose, when he considered the whole of the trip, there had been far to many amazing things discovered for the overall joy to ever be lost to a mere handful of difficult moments. But the idea that it was ending, this part of it at any rate, meant that once more he would be saying goodbye.

"Hey! Sugoroku! Watch your food buddy!"

Sugoroku looked quickly from his somber musings to see that his tray had moved down the table by almost 5 feet when his attention to it had been lost completely and the rolling waves of a restless sea took it for a short trip into someone else's space.

"Sorry," he apologized as he retrieved the still full tray and moved it back to his spot. He followed this up by taking his slice of white bread and placing it onto the table directly with the tray on top. The consistency of the bread was just such that it kept the metal tray from going on any further adventures while Sugoroku's attention was diverted.

He smiled to himself. It was just one of the many odd tricks he had learned while on board the Pemberton and while he couldn't say that he would ever have cause to use it again once his time on the ocean was up, he knew he would never forget the simple move.

But even with the funny memories, half an hour of sitting at the table with the jovial voices of the men around him did nothing to improve his mood and so he returned a less than half empty tray of food to the galley for cleaning, much to the chagrin of the head cook who normally found Sugoroku to be a good eater.

He left the mess and meandered about the ship aimlessly with only curt little nods and shrugs to those that greeted him or asked how he was. He was really in no frame of mind to spend time with others at the moment and soon enough found himself on the lower outside deck, leaning against a secluded bulwark of the ship.

This was a spot he had been told early on was virtually invisible from all other areas of the ship except from directly before it or the right side. From above, there was a small tier that jutted out over his alcove and if one were to lean over to look down from it, they would see only a small portion of the side of the ship and then the sea itself. To the left there sat a side gunner's turret that was blind on it's right side due to the range of another turret further down that covered that area. Directly to the front with perhaps only 6 to 7 feet clearance was the side rail at the edge which as was already mentioned as being covered over from above. This leaves the right side which was effectively the only clear view on the ship into the little recess.

It was here that Sugoroku stood pressed into the cool shade and it was here that he was found…by Richter.

Richter had been for some time looking for a way to pay back Sugoroku for his humiliation almost three weeks ago, but had been having no luck devising a sure way of getting Sugoroku involved without the rest of the ship knowing. He'd come up with more than one idea, but with no cronies left to do the needed dirty work, the plans were unachievable. But it seemed that fate had set him on the right course when he had ambled out onto the rolling topside for a breath of air, getting to the open air by way of a door that brought him out less then ten feet from Sugoroku's position.

The sullen man's eyes grew three sizes with disbelief at catching the boy completely alone and before approaching him, he looked about just to be sure that there was no other near by.

"Well, well! Look what I caught."

Sugoroku looked up at the voice to see a grinning Richter.

The boy didn't even bother to cast about for help. He knew where he was, knew that many men preferred to stay inside when the seas rolled so heavily and by the look on Richter's face understood that the man knew it too.

"What do you want?" he asked as neutrally as he could.

"Why, don't you know?"

"Another game?"

"Payback."

"I already gave the cigarettes away."

"I don't care about a stupid bunch of smokes, kid. I want my reputation back."

"As a cheater?"

"As a winner."

"I won't play you again. I told you. I refuse."

"No you won't. You'll play me and you'll lose. And you'll do it in front of every single crew member plus the captain."

"I won't," insisted Sugoroku with a growing disdain. He would not let this man, a loser and a cheater, bully him in to going back on his word. He had made his decision, knew it was the right one and would not let anyone tell him otherwise. He'd made that decision back in Hawaii and it was time to prove it.

"You will not make me."

"We'll see about that," replied Richter with a gleam in his eye.

Before he could do anything to initially avoid it, Richter's right hand slipped out and grabbed onto Sugoroku's throat tightly. Truthfully, Sugoroku had had the idea that it might be coming. After his eventful and painful evening in the warehouse back in Hawaii he would have definitely expected it had it been any other ordinary man. But Richter, for all his faults, was still a US Naval officer. He should have been at least one step above going for the first hit. Even Leo had waited to take his punches until after one had been committed falsely first.

But Richter had not. He'd even disproved Sugoroku's hope that military men were above taking the first shot. He'd moved in offense seeking to intimidate through force and this had the unfortunate side effect of breaking a thinly held opinion that a military man was just a cut above. Sugoroku now knew he could lump them all together in one class. Men were men and training or acceptance into select regiments was no guarantee that they could not be forced into taking the first violent actions if the incentive was great enough.

Richter for a brief moment, a delicately thin fraction of a second, thought he had the advantage. He had caught Sugoroku unprepared and undefended, but he had not counted on Sugoroku's response. He knew the boy had been getting some help in self defense, it was in fact common knowledge. What he didn't know was how well Sugoroku had been doing in the lessons. He had not thought that a boy who barely stood 4' 4" would have had any chance against him in fair combat or otherwise and consequently did not think that what happened in the next few moments could ever possibly have.

Sugoroku's throat was pinched tight enough to be painful and make it difficult for him to breath, but it was clear that at the moment Richter had no true intention in finishing him off. It was once again, just a move to get the boy to give in. Realizing the man did not intend to kill him, he smiled slightly and ignoring the instinctive desire to grab at Richter's wrist as if to pry it off he instead steeled his right arm as best as he could and swung his fist high…right into Richter's nose.

Sugoroku's first hand experience with a punch to the nose had left him with a clear picture of how useful a hit like that could be for him and so he'd taken his chance and gone for it. But he was under no illusions. He understood that right from the start, the only reason why the hit had made it as planned was only because Richter had held him against the ship's side without an extended and locked arm. He had leaned close, too close, because of his desire to intimidate, and that was his mistake.

Richter gave a loud mixed cry of astonishment and pain as he let go of Sugoroku to cover his nose as he backed up several steps. Sugoroku lacked the strength of position to break a nose fully, but he had managed to make Richter's bleed slightly and the man was incensed by the idea that the boy had done so. So much so, that in his haste to get back at Sugoroku for doing what he had, he lost all caution and threw himself at the boy.

Sugoroku saw the charge coming and still backed into his corner did the only thing left to him. He braced himself against the wall and just as Richter came in to him, Sugoroku lifted his feet to kick the man solidly in the stomach. This sent Richter rolling back and into the rail.

On any other ordinary day this would have been fine. Indeed, just enough. Richter would have hit the rail, doubled over in pain, and Sugoroku would have been able to move off for better positioning and space in case Richter had been willing to continue. But today had been a rolling day of waves with the occasional one crashing over the bow. The Pemberton had been shifting constantly front to back, left to right and sometimes in a seemingly circular fashion. This oddity had persisted even during the altercation in which Sugoroku could be found and it happened that when Sugoroku kicked Richter back and away and into the rail, the ship had dipped down the long side of a wave, causing the rail against which Richter was shoved to dip lower than usual. Richter, being off balance, hit the rail and before he could even attempt to stop himself, his back was bent across the rail and with a wild flail of his arms he disappeared over the side.

Without hesitation Sugoroku moved to the edge of the rail in time to see a white foamy splash of water. For a moment he watched for Richter to reappear. But the man did not come bobbing back up to the surface. A second passed, then two, then three…and there was then the sudden realization that Richter was not going to come back up.

Sugoroku made a decision then. It was rash, it was not thought out in any particular way for there really was no time to think, and never in his life would he ever understand why he had done what he did. But in seconds he made a choice, and after moving off from the rail quickly to rip a medium sized canvas covered ring from the wall, Sugoroku opted to place a foot on the railing and launched himself over the side of the ship as he screamed out, "_Man overboard!_".

It was not the dive of an Olympic swimmer, nor was it the dive of a man simply out to partake of a little refreshing coolness at the local swimming hole. It was a dive to save another's life.

The instant the cool waters touched his head, Sugoroku let go of the safety ring and down he continued in to the sea until the weightlessness of the water caught him and leveled out gravity's pull. Here he opened his eyes, and forcing them to stay open despite the sting of the salt water, he quickly glanced from side to side and then slightly down until a misshapen shape caught his attention. It was not much more than a guess, but Sugoroku took the chance and swam his way towards the shape. As he closed in on it, he was certain. It was Richter.

He was making no effort to save himself, but instead just floated eight feet beneath the surface of the water as if in suspended in nothingness. Swimming in close Sugoroku noted that the man's eyes were closed and surmised that the man had hit the water the wrong way and had momentarily blacked out. This was further evidenced by the obvious fact that Richter had not had time enough to even think of taking a breath and so without lungs full of air had not immediately come back up. Without thinking further on it, Sugoroku grabbed the collar of the man's shirt and started to pull him up, but even with the buoyancy granted by the water it was a task and a half for someone so much smaller.

Sugoroku's lungs began to burn from the need for air as his strenuous movements quickly used up the oxygen he had managed to grab before descending into the sea, but he refused to let go. He pulled and kicked as hard as he could and after intense seconds of fighting he finally managed to break the water's surface with a loud gasp of air. He paused for a moment as he pulled Richter's head up out of the water before looking about for the white life preserver. Only a few feet away, it looked more like a ray of hope than a simple canvas covered tube of sawdust.

The smaller man battled with his heavy load to the life preserver and throwing his arm around it he pulled it close to him to stabilize himself before pulling Richter closer as well. The older man gave a cough, than another and his eyes flew open as several more exploded out of him to the accompaniment of labored draws of air past the water that he had inhaled when under. He flailed his arms madly for a moment in disorientation, very nearly dunking Sugoroku.

"Stop!" yelled Sugoroku. "Or you'll kill us both!"

Richter's panic began to pass and as he floated beside Sugoroku he was also finally able to draw a reasonable breath.

"What…hap…happened?" he asked still in some shock.

"You went over,"replied Sugoroku as he looked from Richter to the Pemberton already 100 yards away. A moment of fear passed where Sugoroku thought that the ship would keep on going. Indeed it looked as though it might, but a remarkable stroke of luck were their's that day.

Richter had not been the only one looking to grab a little air by going out and onto the decks. Vic had also left the relatively dry confines of the 'sardine can' and had been walking along the aft decks when he had heard Sugoroku's cry of 'Man overboard'. When such a cry is issued, it is usually immediately taken up by any and all men within hearing range and Vic had of course done so. What he also had done was _not _immediately go running in the direction of the call. He instead ran to the nearest ship wide communication phone and yelled the call into the bridge. His voice carried across the communications speakers and was immediately relayed from the bridge officer of the watch to the others including the captain who immediately called the order to 'all stop.'

This does take some time do with a ship running well on, but as it took place, Vic had received confirmation that the bridge had received his call and dropping the phone as an alarm rang through the ship, he quickly ran to the side from where he had heard the call originate and looked out at the water.

Already some distance behind them, he spotted the white life preserver only moments before he then saw Sugoroku come up with Richter in tow. Above Vic, another man caught the sight through a pair of binoculars as well and having established where the victims were, the ship shortly began its return for the rescue of the two people.

Ten minutes later, Sugoroku and Richter had been hauled back aboard. They sat on the deck in blankets and were just about to be escorted below when Captain Faraday stepped before the two men.

Richter attempted to salute but it was a weak gesture at best. He was still too unsettled.

"How in the hell did this happen?" the captain asked severely looking from Sugoroku to Richter and back again.

Richter looked at Sugoroku and Sugoroku to him.

"He…lost his balance," said Sugoroku after a long moment.

Richter blinked at him.

"Lost his balance?" repeated Faraday in skepticism.

"Yes. The ship dipped down and he went over. I threw the life preserver in but leaned too far out and the waves caused me to fall over too."

Faraday glared at the two.

"You both fell in…accidentally?"

"Yes sir," answered Sugoroku.

The captain studied the two carefully.

"Is there something I should know about?" he asked with a low whisper and a decidedly unhappy stare at Sugoroku.

There was a long silence as the Richter looked at Sugoroku.

"Well?" asked the captain a stern look across his features.

Sugoroku looked at Richter and then back at the captain.

"No sir. Nothing going on at all. We're fine."

The captain gave a disbelieving look at the two before giving the watchers an admonishing gaze.

"Shove it off boys. Get back to work and clear the decks now."

With that, everyone started to move away leaving Sugoroku and Richter to linger.

When there was no one left within ear shot, Richter looked at Sugoroku.

"You didn't have to do that," he said in a gruff but soft voice.

Sugoroku shrugged.

"I know."

"Then why?"

Again the shrug as the younger fellow looked out to sea. Why indeed?

"Why not?"

"Revenge. Getting even. Squaring the scoreboard."

"You keep score with your life?"

"When its all you got, what else is there?"

"Maybe you should be happy you have that. Too many others do not."

"It still doesn't explain why you didn't fink me out. I came at you. You could have let me drown out there, but you didn't. You could have called someone else to come get me, but you didn't. You could have told the captain it was all my fault, but you didn't. I just want to know why."

Sugoroku considered it for a moment.

"What would I have gained by letting you drown? A guilty conscience, a new nightmare…I've seen too much death as it is. Why wait to let someone else rescue you when I was already there? I could have let someone else do it and you might have been alright, but it could also have been too late. I made my choice and I don't regret it. What would I have gained by telling everyone what doesn't involve them?"

Richter leaned over the railing thoughtfully as he joined Sugoroku's gaze.

"Its nobody's business but our own, huh?"

Richter caught Sugoroku's nod out of the corner of his eye.

"Unless you feel the need to tell."

"Do you know what that would mean if I did?"

Sugoroku nodded. He'd heard enough stories to have a pretty fair idea of the repercussions involved.

"Then don't. I give you my word that I will not."

Richter looked at Sugoroku for a long moment in contemplation and Sugoroku returned it unwaveringly. For a moment, he had the distinct impression that he was being measured under a new standard, but he would have been wrong. Sugoroku was not the one Richter was measuring. It was Richter himself.

Richter was measuring himself against his past beliefs and his past actions, and to no one's greater astonishment than his own, he was using Sugoroku as the model. He was questioning everything he had thought and done against the kid and he found himself severely lacking in every department he looked at. The question was then if he could believe the kid. But with so much personal self doubt, believing in someone else just then was almost the easiest thing in the world.

"You know something kid, I believe you. Not sure why just yet…Hell! Its the craziest thing I think I've ever wanted to do, but I believe you."

Silence reigned for a short moment.

"So now what?"

Sugoroku gave a small smile with a half shrug.

"Start over?"

"That's a tall, hard order kid. I've been like this a long time."

"Change is never easy, but it can be worth it, even if for no one else but yourself."

Richter gave a wry smirk.

"Heh. I guess you'd know too. You're changing more than even me by leavin' everything you know behind."

"Maybe, but it's something I want. I know for me it's the right thing and even though I don't know what's going to happen once I'm there, I'm still going to do it."

Richter nodded.

"You scared?"

"A little."

"Good. At least now I know I'm not the only one."

Sugoroku smiled.

It was amazing how truly universal fear was between all ages.

In the end Richter never technically said 'Thank you' to Sugoroku. Some might have been offended or even angry, but Sugoroku was neither. He didn't need to hear the words to know that it was what Richter thought. It was in his eyes, it was in his voice and it was in his actions. Richter was changing because of him, and that was all he needed to know.

Both had learned something important that day.

Richter had been taught the lessons of humility, atonement and the need for a deeper understanding of who he himself was through the actions a sixteen year old boy.

Sugoroku had learned the lessons of forgiveness and mercy in a split second decision that had dramatically altered another's life.

Marks were once again made upon people's lives and in this instance, Sugoroku was both a receiver and a giver.

But which lesson was the greater? Who came away with the values that would do more in the long run of their lives?

Who among us is truly qualified to gauge it?

In a life like Sugoroku's, where living had only barely begun, the effects of the happening might not be seen for years to come, so how could one attribute this singular event to the as yet unknown?

In a life like Richter's, where so much had already been passed by, the effect on his soul would be a like drastic and sudden overhaul, but would it be in time to do anyone else any good?

Both questions, both people, were conundrums unanswerable by anyone save but by the highest of authorities above, and when the ship was gently guided into the San Diego Navy Pier slip number 1328 on April 13th and the two shook hands solemnly before Sugoroku was whisked off by a guarded escort, both looked content with what they had learned from each other in those last lessons aboard the Pemberton, and each conceded in their own minds that the results were best left for time to sort. Neither held illusions that they could discern the final reasons for all that had transpired, but both did understand clearly that the destiny of the years to come was being shaped by the moments of today.

* * *

I have some unfortunate news for you dear readers. On Monday night, the 18th, my husband tried to take his life. He is currently receiving treatment for his depression, but there is more to be changed than just the addition of medication and psychiatric visits. I have to make changes in the home life as well and because of this, my time to write will be for some time drastically shortened until such time as my husband is well enough again to allow me more time to follow my interests completely. 

Now, this doesn't mean that I'm giving up on Sugoroku. That will never happen. I've become far too attached to this to ever do that. I will, however, need to take a leave of absence from updating this for a bit. It's an intensive piece with the amount of research that goes into it and right now my family and husband need my time more. I do have more already typed up, but those chapters aren't refined or done being researched. I cannot in good conscience put up something that isn't clean. I feel it would degrade your sense of enjoyment and intelligence.

At this point I'll say that I totally appreciate all the wonderful reviews and support you all have shown me during this fic and I look forward to being able to give you more of Sugoroku's life and adventures in the hopefully very near future.

For those of you that see me update my FOP fic, it is only because I not only have about 15 chapters already done but it is a mindlessly easy thing to write and I can slam out a chapter in about an hour and a half. The average Sugoroku chapter can take anywhere from 1-3 weeks to completely finish and research.

I look forward to putting up more of Sugoroku as soon as a I possibly can.

Take care all.

Trixie21

R and R's gratefully appreciated.


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